You Come Back
by Fallen Angel Awakened
Summary: Rick, Michonne and Carl bring a new member into their group; will her fearlessness prove effective or dangerous? Sorry, summaries are not my thing. **Very slow updates**
1. Chapter 1

**Alright.**

 **I'm trying my hand at another Walking Dead story. I had no clue where I was going with the last one, but I think I actually have some ideas for this one.**

 **This is set in season four, when Michonne, Carl and Rick are together.**

 **This is kind of a prologue but not... I don't really know how to explain it. Just go with it.**

 **As always: I do not own anything to do with The Walking Dead.**

 **Enjoy!**

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"Well, well, well." The man muttered, chuckling to himself. "Look who it is." The four stopped, pointing their weapons around at the group that had circled them. There were certainly more of them, nine on Blake's count, but only one had a gun. That one gun was pointed straight at Carl, who aimed his gun right back at the man, not flinching.

The rest of the men had arrows or blades. Compound bows, long bows, one had a crossbow, but only one bolt, machetes and hunting knives. Strange crowd.

"This the guy?" The guy with the gun tossed the question over his shoulder to the first man who had spoken.

"That's him." the ringleader said back, a smirk on his face. It was clear the men were referring to Rick.

"Leave them alone." Rick snarled, pulling back the hammer on his pistol to draw attention away from the others. "It wasn't their fault it was mine!"

"Last time I checked," the ringleader drawled, "you were all together when you were stealing from us, and all of you seemed very ready to kill two of ours."

"We didn't know anyone was in that shithole." Blake growled. "If we had we would've stayed away."

"Well that's a lovely story, but do you think I give a damn about if you knew we were there? No." ringleader kept his cool demeanor throughout his speech. "I care that you killed my brother. And now you're all gonna pay."

Blake saw the signal and dove at the gunman, tackling him to the ground just as he pulled the trigger. The tackle sent the bullet off course and it hit Carl in the leg rather than between the eyes. For a moment, everyone was stunned into silence, including Carl who was on the ground, probably momentarily blacking out from shock and pain. All of a sudden, Rick, Michonne and Blake sprang into action, gunning down the men before they even had a chance to release their arrows.

"Well that was easier than expected." Blake breathed, her eyes roaming over to Rick, who was checking how bad Carl's wound was. He was beginning to stir, which was a good sign.

"Blake!" Michonne warned. The girl's head popped up to see what Michonne was seeing, and her eyes widened slightly at the herd of walkers marching down the road.

"Oh shit." Blake sighed, standing up and beginning to gun down walkers. They should've expected as much; the herd had driven them out of the camp they had set up, it was inevitable that they would be drawn to the gunfire.

Members of the herd dropped as Blake fired into it, every bullet hitting a walker, even on rapid fire, but they kept advancing and there were too many to hold out this way for long. Suddenly, Blake realised where she was and got an idea.

"I know a place!" Blake shouted over the gunfire. She held the trigger down, sweeping her rapid fire artillery into the crowd of walkers as Michonne took out the stragglers that got too close with her katana. "Can you walk?" she peered over her shoulder at Carl, biting her lip in concern as she saw the dark blood ooze from his left thigh, staining his already grimy jeans. Rick was bent over his son, tying his belt above the wound and tearing a spare shirt into strips in an attempt to bandage to bullet hole and staunch the bleeding.

"Yeah." Carl's voice was strained and full of pain, but Blake knew he could do it. Rick knew they had to leave as fast as possible. Rick hooked his arm around Carl's waist, hauling him to his feet and helping him limp away from the herd of undead, wincing at his son's whimpers and apologizing for causing him pain.

"Blake!" Michonne called to the girl as she continued to shoot down the snarling monsters.

"Go!" she waved the woman off, replacing her empty magazine before the walkers had a chance to get to Rick and Carl. "Head South! Just give me one more minute!" Michonne knew she couldn't argue with the teen, she was as stubborn as she was brave, which was terribly irritating considering the girl seemed to be fearless. Michonne gave up, knowing full well she couldn't do anything to make the newest addition to the group leave.

Once she caught up with Rick and Carl, Michonne hooked her own arm around the teen's waist, allowing him to hop on one leg, using the adults as crutches. Rick looked down at his son's pale, sweat drenched face and was reminded for the tenth time that day how much he hated people.

Blake held off the walkers, creating a pile in the middle of the road to hopefully slow them down. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing that her companions were into the trees and emptied her magazine into the crowd of corpses before turning and sprinting towards her group, waving them forwards as she caught up to them.

Blake led the way as the others followed, Carl huffing and trying to muffle his small groans of pain as he tried his best to keep up with the jogging pace the group had settled into. His leg was still bleeding steadily, which was cause for major concern. Rick just hoped the bullet hadn't hit an artery, but with as much blood as there was, that possibility was becoming very plausible.

After ten minutes of jogging, Carl went limp between his human crutches, unconscious for a second time. Rick and Michonne continued, knowing full well there was nothing they could do for Carl until they got somewhere safe.

"Blake." Rick called, concern and fear in his voice. "How much further?"

"Not far." She called back, "But we're about to be completely exposed and there's no way around it. Get ready to sprint!" Blake threw the machine gun over her shoulder, the strap catching perfectly across her chest as she whipped out her machete. She picked up speed as she neared the edge of the tree line, the others following suit.

The group exited the trees and came out in a school yard, an empty playground with nothing to serve as protection. Blake picked up the pace even more, turning her run into a dead sprint as she crossed the playground, soccer field and street. Michonne and Rick weren't quite able to keep up with Carl dragging between them, but kept Blake in sight. Luckily, there were no walkers around, making their sprint slightly easier.

Blake ran up the middle of a residential street, thanking the trees for being overgrown and billowy as she skidded to a stop in front of a house. She caught her breath as the others caught up, pulling a keychain form her pocket as she waited for them. As they slowed, Carl groaned and opened his eyes, looking at the new surroundings. The teen stumbled to regain his footing, finding it hurt to be dragged as he was.

Michonne took Carl's weight from Rick as he pulled out his hunting knife, and walked up the driveway next to Blake. Michonne helped Carl to limp up to the porch as well, but kept a safe distance from the house.

Rick set up to bust the door down, but Blake stopped him, displaying the keychain she had previously pulled from her pocket. She tested the door, relieved to find it locked, before slipping the key into the lock and turning it. The door slowly opened on squeaky hinges, revealing a dusty but intact house.

"Welcome home." Blake sighed, a smile finding its way onto her face.

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 **Wow that moved really fast. Next chapter will be flashback of how Blake met the group and why those people were hunting our beloved group. And if you are wondering, yes that group was a replacement for the 'Claimed' gang. I might be able to update tomorrow, but I'm not promising anything.**

 **Please review! and check out my one-shot series for TWD and Criminal Minds! I need suggestions for those.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again!**

 **Sorry I couldn't update yesterday but OMFG THE MID SEASON FOR 6 WAS AMAZING! Although, being a fan of he comics, I was expecting a few more things to happen, but they do only have forty two minutes to jam everything in so I get why they couldn't do even half of No Way Out.**

 **Okay enough jibber jabber! You're here for the chapter not my rambling!** **But one more thing though, Spoiler warning if you aren't caught up: I'm so happy Ron and Carl learned how to actually fight rather than just shoving each other like in 6x05 . I was honestly yelling at the TV.**

 **Oh and one more one more thing. I don't own TWD or anything to do with it... sadly.**

 **Okay, I will let you read now!**

 _Blake sprinted through the woods. She had no reason to run, wasn't running from anything. She just enjoyed the practice for when she did have to run. She hurdled roots and bushes, ducked under low branches, swerved around tree trunks and managed to grab a branch off of a wild blueberry bush and stuff it in her satchel without stopping._

 _"_ Man _," she thought to herself, "_ I could have been in the Olympics _."_

 _What she failed to notice, however, was the voices and the strung tin cans._

 _Blake broke through the thin string, surprised to emerge into a small clearing containing three people: a scruffy looking man and a pale, thin teenage boy who were obviously father and son, and a dark skinned woman with a katana. Blake halted as fast as humanly possible after her sprint._

 _The trio raised their weapons, ready to defend themselves, but hesitated. Blake couldn't blame them, the only thing that was remotely threatening about her was the machine gun she carried, which looked like it weighed more than her. It sucked that the magazine was empty, but Blake felt safe despite the two hand guns and the sword being pointed in her direction. There was a sense of familiarity among these people, well, the man and the boy. She had no idea who the badass looking samurai was._

 _Blake locked eyes with the man, knowing him for sure, but not able to recall who he was. It was when she locked eyes with his son that she realised where she knew him from. "Carl?" she lowered her weapon as the realisation crossed his face as well._

 _"_ _Blake?" the pistol dropped to his side as a disbelieving smirk came across his face. He knew the blonde hair and chocolate eyes were extremely familiar, but he couldn't place his friend until she spoke._

 _Blake slipped the strap of the machine gun over her shoulder and held up her hands to Rick and the unknown woman, showing she meant no harm. Rick kept his gun up, although Blake could tell that he recognized her name and was trying to place her. The samurai kept her katana poised, glancing between Blake and Rick._

 _"_ _Carl?" Rick questioned. He knew the girl form somewhere, but just couldn't figure it out._

 _"_ _Blake played on my softball team for four years." Carl explained, lowering his father's pistol for him. "And we were in the same class every year since first grade." Carl glanced to his left and noticed Michonne still had her sword raised. "Back off Michonne, I'm pretty sure she won't try to kill us." Carl smirked at Blake and Blake smirked back in agreement. Michonne submitted hesitantly, lowering the blade but not sheathing it._

 _"_ _Where's your group?" Rick questioned._

 _"_ _Dead." Blake answered with no hesitation. "Been on my own for a while." She didn't make it sound like a sob story, she said it how it was: she was alone._

 _"_ _How long?" Michonne felt for the girl. She knew what it was like to be alone on this world, but she couldn't imagine being a_ kid _alone in this world._

 _"_ _Over a year." Blake thought about her answer. "Since a couple of months after everything went down."_

 _"_ _Are you willing to give up your weapons?" Rick asked, gesturing to the machine gun hanging across her shoulder and the machete strapped to her belt._

 _"_ _It's temporary." Carl assured, seeing Blake's hesitance. He knew he wouldn't want to give up his gun either. "You'll get them back soon."_

 _"_ _Sure…" Blake slowly slipped the gun off of her shoulders and stepped forward, reluctantly handing it to Rick. She then slid the machete out of its holster, and passed it handle first to Carl._

 _"_ _It'll only be for a few days." Rick slid the gun over his own shoulder. "Until we get used to having you around. If you need them before we'll give them to you."_

 _"_ _Alright." Blake felt naked without her weapons. Her fingers twitched at her sides, wanting to grip the hilt of her machete, but finding it missing. "Anything else?"_

 _"_ _Yeah." Rick holsters his pistol, finally seeming comfortable with Blake's presence. "How many walkers have you killed?"_

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

 _"_ _There may be something in here." Rick gestured to the Walmart ahead. It had been three days since the trio had become a quartet, and Blake was almost used to not having weapons._

 _"_ _Let's check it out." Michonne agreed. She was walking next to Rick, ahead of Blake, Carl strayed slightly behind Blake, reloading the clip for his pistol._

 _The snarl of walkers startled everyone and the group whipped around to see three of them a few feet back form Carl, who was struggling to insert his clip into the magazine considering the loose bullets that were still in his hands._

 _Blake wasted no time, grabbing the walker closest to Carl by the decaying shoulders and throwing it to the ground. She stomped its head in as Rick shot the second one and Carl got his pistol situated, taking the third down._

 _"_ _Blake!" Michonne warned. The teenager whipped around and ducked out of the walkers grasp just as it reached for her shoulders. She tackled it around the waist and rolled off of it as Michonne ran up and stabbed the walker through the eye._

 _Carl offered a hand to Blake and helped her get back to her feet. "Thanks." he breathed._

 _"_ _No problem." Blake wiped her walker-slimed hands on her jeans. "On that note, I think we should go inside."_

 _"_ _Blake." Rick called as the girl passed. "Here." He held the machine gun out to her and she gladly took it with a grateful smile. Carl handed her the machete that he had secretly been giving her at night just in case. She smirked at him and he smiled back, the secret passing between them._

 _"_ _Alright," Rick nodded. "Let's go."_

 _Blake sheathed her machete, slid the machine gun over her shoulders and pulled the blade out again, preparing for the worst as the entered the Walmart._

 _Scavenging was quiet as there were no walkers in the store. Carl and Blake went left as they entered and Rick and Michonne turned right. The group weaved up and down the aisles, grabbing what few things would be useful: a reusable LifeStraw water bottle, cans of fruit and vegetables, and a pack of barbeque lighters. Carl and Blake had finished grabbing what they could fit in Blake's satchel and a backpack Carl had grabbed when the sound of a door banging open echoed through the Walmart._

 _Both teens dropped to the ground and drew their guns, listening to the voices floating through the shelves._

 _"…_ _need some a them filter-straw water bottle things to fill." One voice said as Blake and Carl's hearts filled with dread. The voice was close and getting close because the person was coming to the aisle they were in._

 _"_ _Well hurry your ass up or chief's gonna get madder." The second voice reached the pair's ears. They knew moving would be out of the question. Whether they got mistaken for walkers or recognized as humans, they would almost surely end up dead. They got up anyway, moving to the next aisle over in hopes of remaining hidden._

 _Their hoped were crushed as the second man followed the first and caught sight of them. "Hey!" he called to his counterpart. "There's a couple a kids in here!" both aimed their weapons for the man's face, but failed to hear the other sneak up behind them._

 _The man's arms were massive as each one wrapped completely around a teenager. Carl started and dropped his pistol while Blake was able to hold onto her machine gun until the other man came up and took it away._

 _"_ _Oh this is a nice piece here." The man looked the weapon over, admiring it. "Where'd a pretty little girl like you pick up a big scary gun like this?" he sneered, looking the children over._

 _"_ _Our dad is a Navy Seal." Blake lied through her teeth. The truth was that she raided a gun store, but she figured it was better to talk until she or Carl or Rick and Michonne could figure something out. "We got a bunch of them lying around." That Blake could see the momentary concern flash across the man's face before his amused expression returned._

 _"_ _That so?" the man chuckled. "And where's your daddy now?"_

 _"_ _Oh I think he's around here somewhere." Carl spoke up. She looked over to him and he gestured with his eyes to show what he meant. Blake saw Rick and Michonne stepping silently along the wall behind Carl and immediately turned her head back to their captors._

 _"_ _Is he now?" Both teens could tell that the man was trying to cover up his fear; they would be scared too, if they were under the threat of an angry Navy Veteran._

 _"_ _Yep." Carl and Blake said in unison as Rick's figure made it into their peripheral. Both jumped as the shot rang out and the man before them fell to the ground. Blake was able to slip out of the other man's grasp as he was startled by the loud bang, but Carl was left trapped in the thick mass of flesh._

 _The man turned towards Rick, placing a gun to Carl's head. "Backup!" he barked, positioning Carl in front of him as a human shield. Coincidentally, the man forgot about Blake, or thought she was injured by the gunshot, and turned his back on her. "Weapons on the ground!" he barked again, seeing he had complete control over the two._

 _"_ _Let him go." Rick said in a low, threatening voice, not putting his weapon down._

 _"_ _I said put your weapons down!" Blake knew she had to do something as the man dug the gun into Carl's temple and pulled the hammer back. Rick and Michonne complied, dropping their weapons lightly on the floor. Blake knew she couldn't get her gun out from under the dead man's body without alerting the live one, so she opted for the machete._

 _"…_ _going on in there?!" another voice and multiple footsteps flooded in through the backdoor, telling Blake that she had to act immediately. She slid her blade from its holster and sprang to her feet, slicing the man's head at the ears. A chunk of skull and brains went flying as the body fell, dragging a now blood-covered Carl with it. He rolled away and everyone collected their weapons, bolting for the front door._

 _Michonne went out first, she had just exited the building as the first shots rang out. Blake followed just after, seeing the samurai slice up a few walkers. Carl followed close behind Blake, ducking as the glass behind him shattered. Rick made sure everyone else was out safely, not being able to stand another loss, then followed his group out._ _He returned his gaze to the store for only a moment, locking eyes with a clearly angered man before disappearing into the woods at the edge of the road._

 _Rick knew by the look on the man's face that he was the vengeance type._

 _They would be seeing him again._

 **So there it is. Now you know how Blake found the group and how they incurred the wrath of the other group.**

 **Please review! I will try to put up another chapter before Saturday, but you now how life works.**

 **Bye!**


	3. Chapter 3

**So here's the next chapter.**

 **We are now back in the time frame of chapter one, hope you enjoy!**

 **As always, I don't own anything to do with The Walking Dead.**

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"Here." Blake led Michonne and Carl through to the living room at the back of the house. She could hear Carl hissing in pain as he limped through the house. She could also hear Rick's footsteps as he checked every room in the house, ensuring the group didn't have any unwanted guests.

"Easy, easy." Michonne helped Carl onto the couch then got to work on slicing away his pant leg to expose the wound. His face was pouring sweat and contorted in obvious pain.

"I'll be right back." Blake left the living room, heading for the linen closet she knew was at the base of the staircase. As she was grabbing towels, Rick came back down the stairs, holstering his pistol.

"Where are they?" he asked, obvious concern on his face and in his voice.

"Back through the kitchen," Blake answered, closing the closet, handing Rick the towels and heading upstairs next. "I'll be down in a second." She practically ran up the stairs, grabbing the banister in order to fly around the corner without falling.

The bathroom was at the end of the hall, and Blake immediately took to rummaging under the sink for anything that may help with Carl's condition. "Shit." Blake breathed when she couldn't find any pain meds. The only useful things in the cupboard were a half empty bottle of expired hydrogen peroxide and a roll of gauze. Blake ran back down the stairs, skidding to a halt in the living room where Rick and Michonne were waiting. Concern was on both of their faces as well as Blake's when she saw Carl had passed out again, probably from blood loss this time.

"Is the bullet still in his leg?" Bake rushed to the couch, kneeling before the bloody mess.

"Yeah." It was obvious Rick was fighting tears, seeing his son in so much pain was obviously hard, especially in this world where there were no doctors to take care of injuries like this.

"I can get it out." Blake tore a strip from one of the towels she brought in and drenched it in peroxide, wiping gently at Carl's still slowly bleeding wound to clear away any bits of forest that had made their way into or around the bullet hole.

"You can?" Rick was shocked and horrified at the same time. A teenage girl was about to perform surgery on his son? "Wait, woah woah woah. How do you know?"

"I've done it before." Blake called as she got up, ran to the kitchen and came back with a small, sharp knife. She ripped another strip of towel and wiped the blade down, sterilizing everything as best she could.

"You have?" Rick and Michonne were clearly incredulous to the girl, but she knew what she was doing.

"Yes." Blake made sure the belt tourniquet was tight enough then turned to Michonne. "Upstairs, second door on the right. There's a purple box with needles and thread in the top left drawer of the desk. Get it."

"Okay…?" Michonne got up and went up the stairs to find the requested item.

"When you did this before," Rick's voice was strained and scared, "it went okay?" he definitely didn't want a teenager performing surgery with a kitchen knife and sewing kit, but he had no clue how to help Carl, so if Blake had done this before, Rick guessed he would have to trust her.

"I was close to normal after a few days. Well, I should say I was able to ignore it after a few days." Blake looked at Rick, slightly amused by his shocked expression. "Yes, I took a bullet out of myself. But it was my arm, not my leg so I don't know how soon Carl will be walking. He can take his time if he needs to, the locks are secure and we can install more."

"You… what?" Rick was still hung up on the fact that Blake had had to take a bullet out of her own arm.

"Well when I was by myself I didn't have many options now did I?" Blake poured some peroxide onto her hands and wiped them down, wanting to get everything as clean as possible. She wouldn't be able to get anti-biotics until the next day. Hopefully they wouldn't need any, but knowing everyone's luck in the apocalypse, Carl was almost guaranteed to get at least a mild infection. "I learned by trial and error. Luckily, I didn't make an error during this particular trial." Blake slid her jacket off, not wanting the long sleeves to get in the way of her work.

Just as Blake was about to begin getting the bullet out of Carl's leg, Rick grabbed her arm. She turned, and saw his watery eyes staring into hers. "Thank you."

The phrase was for more than the task she was about to perform. It was for smashing the walker's head in, for killing the man that held Carl at gunpoint in the Walmart, for tackling the man that tried to shoot Carl for revenge on Rick, for holding the heard back while the other three ran for the woods and for bringing them to the house. Blake had only been a part of their group for five days, but Rick was already considering her to be family. She had done so much to protect the people Rick cared about, the people she now cared about, and he cared about her. She was like a daughter to him.

"No problem." she smirked as Michonne came back into the room carrying the purple box.

"How do you know where everything is?" She questioned as she opened the box and began threading a needle.

"This is my house." Blake watched as Michonne finished threading the needle and splashed some peroxide into a glass, setting the threaded needle in the clear liquid to clean it. "Or, it was. The government came and cleared it out pretty early on. Took my family and me to a 'safe zone'. It was far; never thought I'd see this place again."

"What happened to them?" Carl's voice surprised everyone. "What happened to Tegan?" that name sent a pang through Blake's heart, but she chose to ignore it, opting to joke with Carl instead.

"You, my friend, chose the absolute worst time to wake up." Blake sighed, picking up the knife and wiping it down one last time. "I'm doing this now. If I don't you're going to lose too much blood."

"Wait… what?" Carl was clearly disoriented. He had no clue Blake was about to perform surgery on him.

"Rick, Michonne. Hold him down will you? Above the knee and just below the ankle. He can't move."

"What are you doing?" Carl was scared, why was he being held down?

Rick held Carl down above the tourniquet and Michonne grabbed his ankle. "I'm getting the bullet out." Blake announced.

Carl groaned, remembering the last time he went through this with Hershel and gripped onto the couch, preparing himself mentally for the pain to increase a hundred fold as soon as Blake touched his wound.

"I'm sorry, Carl." Blake lined up the knife with the hole in her friend's leg, truly feeling guilty about the pain she was about to cause him. "This is going to hurt."

She pushed the knife in, sliding it around the edge of the bullet, freeing it from the grasp of Carl's muscle. More blood poured out of the wound, obviously due to the knife. Blake was surprised at the lack of noise coming from Carl. He hissed and jerked a few times, but other than that there were only a few actual vocal sounds. He didn't cry out until Blake pushed down on the bottom end of the bullet, forcing it to begin to slide out of Carl's leg.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry." Blake grimaced at the sound coming from Carl-it was almost the sound of a strangled cat-but this had to be done. "Almost…" she grabbed onto the bullet and gave one final tug, pulling it free from her friend's leg, "got it." The chunk of metal clattered to the ground, and Carl's bleeding sped up.

Blake grabbed the needle and thread, getting to work on stitching the wound.

Everyone was relieved that the bullet was out, especially Carl. A huge amount of pressure and pain dissipated after the round had been removed from his flesh. He was already light-headed from the pain, and his remaining consciousness was beginning to slip away as the blood continued to drip out of the wound.

"It's okay." Rick took his son's hand as his eyes began to shut. "Rest. We're safe for now."

* * *

 **I actually think I might introduce the Claimed gang within the next couple of chapters, just for plot thickening and Daryl presence because who doesn't love a good Daryl presence?**

 **Please review and keep watch for another chapter in the next couple of days!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi all!**

 **This one is kind of short, but I felt like putting up a chapter with a bit of character interaction, rather than just action. Hope you enjoy, but if not you can let me know.**

 **As always, I own nothing to do with The Walking Dead.**

* * *

Blake and Michonne rummaged through the tools in the garage and basement, looking for tools to increase the security of the house. On the bright side, Blake knew her father had grabbed multiple barrel bolt locks from a hardware store when the strange news broadcasts started; he had been worried about a break-in. The unfortunate part of the situation was that her father had not gotten a chance to install the locks, so Blake had no idea where they were.

"Where could they be?" Blake sat back on her heels, tired of kneeling in front of the tool cupboard at the back of the garage. The basement had proven to be useless on the tool front in general, though there was a hefty amount of canned goods and other mostly non-perishable foods.

"Didn't find them?" Michonne asked form the other side of the garage. She was searching through a box filled with an abundance of random things; pipes, wood, kid's books, if you could name it, it was probably in there. Everything accept locks.

"No, you know they could be-" Blake suddenly smacked her forehead in disbelief, the realisation hitting her like a ton of bricks. "In my dad's backpack which is at the safe zone the government people took us to. Oh good."

"Great." Michonne sighed.

"Yeah I know. I forgot he grabbed them right before the government came to rescue the neighbourhood. He had them in his backpack when they came through."

"Well, all of the locks are intact at the moment, so we do have the option of waiting for a bit until we need to reinforce anything." Michonne reasoned.

"Point taken," Blake got to her feet, "but I'd rather not wait around until something needed to be reinforced. Because then we're pretty well screwed."

"You're right." Michonne decided she should really stop trying to reassure this girl with the logic she would've used to console a child. Blake knew better that to trust the illusion of safety. "But it'll hold for a night."

"Yeah." Blake knew that part was most likely correct. "We should go get supplies tomorrow. There's a strip mall with a hardware store not too far from here. There has to be something useful there."

"Sounds like a plan." Michonne thought. "We'll let Rick know."

"Okay." Blake followed Michonne back into the house, making sure the door was locked as they went back into the living room to check on Carl and Rick. Michonne went to the kitchen first, grabbing some food for dinner, while Blake went straight to the living room and sat on the floor.

"How's he doing?" She asked, seeing Carl's paler than usual face.

"He hasn't woken up since you took the bullet out." Rick hadn't moved in that time; he just sat next to the couch, watching Carl, worrying about him. "It's been almost six hours."

"Give him time." Blake assured, watching the steady rise and fall of Carl's chest. He was breathing easily, which was a good sign. "He needs rest in order to heal. It happened this morning, he needs more than a few hours."

Michonne came into the room then, carrying a can of corn, box of crackers and bottle of water. "Dinner is served." She placed the items on the coffee table that sat between the entrance and the couch, then sat down on the opposite side Rick and Blake were on.

Nobody ate very much considering the events of that day, but they knew skipping meals when food was available would be an absolutely idiotic thing to do.

"So Blake and I were thinking about going on a supply run tomorrow." Michonne said to break the silence.

"That so?" Rick's mind was elsewhere, and his gaze kept wandering over his shoulder. "Where to?"

"There's a strip mall around, about two hours walk." Blake said, her gaze also kept sneaking over her shoulder to her unconscious friend. "Hardware store, clothes, I think there's even a pharmacy, if memory serves."

"Alright." Rick grunted. He wasn't one for conversation at the moment, which Michonne and Blake understood.

"If we head just after dawn we should be back by early afternoon." Michonne was mostly thinking aloud, but also trying to console Rick about their impending absence.

"And when we get back we'll have more food and clean clothes." Blake added.

"Yeah." Rick knew runs were necessary, but he was having trouble being okay with his family leaving without him. Especially since their destination was pretty far away.

The conversation ended after that. Everyone just sat, quietly staring around as the room got darker. Surprisingly, it was Rick who finally broke the silence. "We should all get some rest." He suggested. "I'll take watch, just in case."

"No." Michonne objected. "I'll take first watch. You need to sleep." It was obvious that Rick was about to interject, but Michonne held up a hand. "You can take second, Blake can have third."

Rick looked like he was going to argue, but then a yawn caught him off guard, proving Michonne's point. He sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll take second."

Blake watched the exchange, her eyelids heavy from the excitement of the day. She definitely wasn't going to argue with getting to sleep first.

"Good." Blake got up and went to the linen cupboard again, this time pulling two quilts down from the top shelf. "Here." She tossed one to Michonne, who caught it and began unfolding it to wrap around herself. Blake carried the other one over to Carl, unfolded it and draped it over him. The nights were cold, despite the fact that they were inside; it was clear that winter would be upon them soon. "Come on." She gestured for Rick to stand. "There are three bedrooms upstairs."

* * *

 **Not much excitement, mostly a filler. Even in writing characters need a rest sometimes. Next chapter will most likely be more exciting.**

 **Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Helloooooo!**

 **Sorry for the long wait, but school happened.**

 **So this chapter gives more of a look into Blake's past, hopefully its enjoyable. In case it's unclear, the** ** _italicised_** **bit is a flashback.**

 **As always, I own nothing to do with TWD.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Blake woke to someone gently shaking her shoulder. She rolled over and opened her eyes, seeing Michonne standing next to her bed. "I though Rick wanted second watch?" Blake yawned and stretched, sitting up and removing the comforter.

"You and I both know that if he takes second, there won't be a third. Especially considering Carl." Michonne explained.

"Yeah, good point." Blake grabbed her Machine gun, sluing it over her shoulder and strapped her machete holster to her thigh. "Should I wake him later?" she asked as she left. "He'll be mad if I don't, but he needs it."

"You decide." Michonne shrugged. "If you need more sleep, wake him, if not, don't. Without us here, he isn't going to be resting much tomorrow."

"Okay." Blake left the room and quietly made her way down the hall and down the stairs to the living room. When she got there, Blake sat on the floor, leaning against the couch near Carl's head.

Michonne had left the quilt on the coffee table, and Blake moved to put it around her shoulders but paused; she turned onto her knees, and draped it over Carl. It was cold in the house, especially since the room was in the back of the house and had two outer walls.

Blake went back to leaning against the couch, peering through the dark pathway to the front door and listening for anything outside. It was relatively quiet, excluding the light wind and occasional birdcall or cricket chirp.

After what was probably an hour or two, Blake heard a rustle of blankets behind her; she turned to see Carl stirring, his face slightly scrunched in pain. After a few moments, his eyes fluttered open. He peered around the room as he tried to get his bearings in the dark.

"Hey." Blake kept her voice low, not wanting to startle Carl or wake the sleeping adults upstairs. It reminded her of when she used to have sleepovers with her friends. It sucked that all of those friends were probably dead now. "You okay?"

Carl's eyes found hers in the dark. "Yeah." Blake could tell he wasn't, but bringing that up wouldn't accomplish much, so she left it. "How long have I been out?"

"A while." Blake turned and grabbed a water bottle off of the coffee table. "Here." She took the cap off and handed it to him.

"Do we have enough?" Carl took the water, propping himself up on one elbow to drink.

"Plenty." Blake smirked, knowing she would ask the exact same question if she was in Carl's position. "There's a river close by and we have the LifeStraw filter. We basically have an unlimited amount of water for as long as we stay here. Unless the river freezes, but that never happened in the time that I lived here."

"Good." Carl drank about a third of the water before handing it back to Blake, who replaced the cap and placed the container back on the table. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah." Blake leaned back against the table. "Michonne and your dad are asleep upstairs. Do you want me to go get him?"

"No, it's okay." Carl brushed the hair off his face and sighed.

"You okay?" Blake cocked her head slightly to the side, knowing for certain the he was not okay.

"Yeah, I'm fi-"

"Carl." Blake interrupted in a stern tone. "I mean it. Are you okay?"

He sighed again. "It hurts." He admitted.

"Well that's to be expected." Blake smirked slightly. "But that's not it." The teenager prided herself in her ability to read people. She'd been good at it ever since first grade, and her instincts had improved since the beginning of the apocalypse; they had to if she wanted to stay safe. "Seriously, dude. What's up?"

"I… I'm just thinking."

"About?"

"Everything." Carl looked at Blake, who tilted her head in curiosity again. "We had a bigger group, much bigger. We were in a prison. We had walls, fences, people; we were the safest we've been since this whole thing started. Another group wanted what we had. The leader of that group called himself the governor; he convinced the rest of his people to attack us. They destroyed everything. They knocked the fences down, blew up the walls, killed our people. Damn near killed my dad. They let walkers in. A walker…" Carl swallowed, fighting tears, "a walker killed my sister. The governor killed the man who saved my life, so many lives. We don't know if anyone else I alive. Seeing that other group this morning, it just reminded me how people react to this world. Shows me how much my dad has changed, how much everyone has changed. How much I've changed. It's terrifying. We can defend ourselves against the walkers, but people are another story. We can't defend ourselves against us. Against what we have to become to survive. I've killed countless walkers; things that used to be people. I've killed two people, maybe more. I couldn't tell who shot who during the prison attack. One of them was my own mother. I was with someone else, but I did it. It's me. I killed my mom." One tear slipped over Carl's lashes and he defiantly wiped it away.

"I lied." Blake whispered, staring down at her hands.

"What?" Carl asked, confused.

"When Rick asked me those questions. I lied."

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

 _"_ _How many walkers have you killed?" Rick asked, staring Blake in the eye._

 _"_ _Too many to count." She replied. It was probably ten or more per day since she lost her parents._

 _"_ _How many people have you killed?" Was the next question._

 _Blake thought for a moment before answering. "Four." She said in the same tone she used for the first answer._

 _"_ _Why?"_

 _"_ _Pity, and self-preservation." She said. "You can't make it now without getting blood on your hands."_

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

"I've killed more than four people." Blake admitted in a voice that was little more than a whisper.

"How many?" Carl asked cautiously.

"Thirteen." Blake could feel the tears pooling behind her eyes. "Thirteen before I was with you."

"Why?" Carl's voice was at the same volume as Blake's now.

"It's a long story. A long, complicated, inexcusable story."

"Well, we've got time." Carl pointed out. "Try me. I've seen and heard more than I ever expected to."

"Well…" Blake took a breath trying to figure out where to start. "Early on the government came through here, clearing everyone out. We left, went to a so-called safe zone. We stayed for maybe three weeks, but then the government started clearing out. They just left. So we did too. We figured it was only a matter of time before people turned against each other or walkers came through. There would have been no way out if that happened. It was okay for a while. Dad killed the walkers, mom kept inventory of everything and figured out what we needed to find and I watched Tegan; made sure she stayed quiet, ran way or hid, didn't eat anything that she found, things like that. For a month or so, we were fine. We didn't go hungry, we always had water, we didn't run into any bad people, we were almost safe. My mom refused to kill the walkers. She didn't understand that they were dead. Thought they were… people. She just ran away while my dad killed them. One time when she ran away, she ran right into one. She got bit before anyone could get to her. Twice. I found her by her screams, stabbed the walker, kept Tegan from seeing it. My dad couldn't do it, so… I had to shoot her. I don't think she was eve dead yet. It was the first walker I killed. The first time I fired a gun." Blake was having more and more trouble keeping her tears from falling. "A few weeks later, we ran into a big group of them; too big to run away. My dad ran into them, just yelling at me to keep Tegan safe. We ran. I had to explain to her where dad was. Why he wasn't with us anymore. He had always come back before, always found us. He wouldn't this time. I knew, but Tegan kept asking me when he was coming back." Blake took a moment, gathering her composure so as not to burst into tears. She hadn't cried in at least a year. She wasn't starting again now. "I kept her safe for a while, but… she was too trusting. She was smart enough, knew the walkers were bad, we stayed away from those. I killed them when they got too close. It didn't bother me much. But… I couldn't always keep her safe. I was killing some, lost track of her. After they were dead I found her, hiding out in a bush, covered in blood. One bit her. She killed it. She killed it with the knife I gave her. This knife." Blake pulled a miniature dagger form her boot. She hadn't touched it in months, kept it concealed, just in case. She turned it over in her hands while she spoke. "I couldn't protect her." The tears finally spilled, and Blake let them she didn't wipe them away, she just let all of her supressed emotion that had built up over the past year and a half out. "I put her down too. Wouldn't let her become one of them. That was two people I killed. I went mad. Hunted walkers down to kill them, to make them pay for what they did to people. Until I found people. I had this gun by then." She gestured with the weapon. "I was running through the wood, slicing walkers down then ran onto a camp. It didn't register that they were people until they were dead. I think they might've tried to help me, but I wouldn't let them. I killed them all. I don't even remember doing it, I just remember opening my eyes to all of the bodies. The gun was in my hands. All because I couldn't protect my little sister. I killed eleven strangers because I couldn't protect Tegan."

* * *

 **Well that was a soliloquy if I've ever written one... I might be able to use that for my monologue next semester.**

 **Again, my apologies for the late update, school is just very time consuming near the end of the semester.**

 **Please review! PM me if you have any questions, or if you have any suggestions for what I should put into the story, or if you just want to chat about TWD during its hiatus!**


	6. Chapter 6

I **have returned! had it been a while since the last update? I don't remember when I put the last chapter up. Oh well, here's the next one! This one is a bit all over the place, but I think you'll get it.**

 **As always: I do not own anything to do with The Walking Dead.**

 **I wish you all of the enjoyments!**

* * *

The silence that occurred after Blake's confession was deafening. Carl wanted to comfort his friend, but he had no idea where to even begin. He understood. He did. He'd seen it with his dad after his mom had died. He just walked around, killing walkers, seeing things.

The fact that she had killed more people than she admitted to was of little concern to Carl; she had saved his life multiple times within the past few days.

After a few moments, Carl blurted, "I couldn't protect Judith." Without even thinking.

Blake looked up at him, her tear-streaked face glowing in the faint moonlight. "Your sister?" she asked, knowingly.

"Yeah." Carl hung his head, ashamed that he couldn't even protect a helpless baby.

"I didn't know you had a sister." Blake thought back to elementary school, events that occurred so long ago she could barely fathom a clear memory. She did not recall ever hearing the name Judith Grimes.

"She was just a baby." Carl explained. "Less than a year old. My mother died during childbirth, had to have a c-section in the middle of a walker infested prison, performed by an inexperienced woman with my knife."

"I hate it when people tell me they're sorry for my loss." Blake mumbled.

"It never seems real." Carl mumbled back.

"Carl."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about your mom and sister." Blake's voice was genuine, and she poured her heart into her words.

"I'm sorry about your family." Carl's voice matched Blake's.

For the first time, the apologies felt real.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

"You ready?" Michonne asked, sheathing her katana.

"Yeah." Blake zipped up her backpack and slid it over her shoulders before checking that her machete was in place, holstering the pistol Carl had given her and wiggling her toes to make sure the knife was secure in her boot.

"How far is this place?" Rick laid a hand on Blake's shoulder, startling her. She was surprised that he wasn't angrier over the fact that she hadn't woken him up for his watch shift.

"About two hours." Blake responded, looking up at Rick, trying to form a reassuring facial expression.

"We'll be back before the sun starts setting." Michonne stepped forward. "We should get going."

"You've got water?" Rick was being such a dad, and that felt odd to Blake. It had been such a long time since someone had made sure she was ready. She wasn't used to being the one someone else was trying to take care of.

"Yes." Blake shook her bag slightly, letting Rick listen to the swishing of liquid in a plastic container.

"You be careful." He looked both girls in the eye before patting Blake on the shoulder. "And don't be too long."

"We won't." Michonne peered around Blake to see Carl, still asleep on the couch in the back room. "Come on, let's go." She gestured to the door with her head and lake led the way, turning left at the end of the driveway.

The two could feel Rick's eyes on them all the way down the street, but didn't turn around for fear that he would try to convince them not to go. Once they turned the corner, the sound of the door shutting echoed to their ears.

Blake walked slightly ahead of Michonne, leading her back past the school yard they had come through when they first went to the house.

"So you and Carl went to school here?" Michonne asked, wanting to fill the silence.

"Yeah." Blake smirked thinking about the time in third grade when Mrs. Mueller had brought in cookies and licorice for the entire class. It wasn't a special occasion, she was just a fun teacher and a nice person who felt like she should give her class cookies and licorice and let them play games all afternoon instead of having math class. Blake and Carl had competed in building the tallest block tower. Blake had cheated, knocking Carl's tower to the ground when no one was looking. "Never thought I would miss this place." Blake wondered what had happened to Mrs. Mueller. She was probably dead, although, she had thought that of many people, including Carl.

"You think there could be anything in there we could use?" Michonne looked at the front door as they passed.

"We can look on the way back." Blake turned away from the school, heading in the direction of the hardware store. "I don't think there will be much."

"We should also look in the houses in the neighborhood later. We might find some food."

"Yeah." Blake saw a walker up ahead and drew her machete. "We've got enough food to last us a little over a week. Securing the house is priority right now."

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Rick wandered around the house, worrying about everything. He thought about the prison, all the people he may or may not have lost, the people he definitely lost. He was also thinking about Blake. How she had been out there for so long by herself. He couldn't believe that she and Carl were so similar yet so different. Rick wasn't sure that Carl could've handled himself out there in the beginning; now, there was no doubt in his mind, but when the apocalypse had started, Carl was so frightened, so dependent. It wasn't until Lori's death that he really changed, became the person he needed to be to survive.

Rick leaned back against the wall in the upstairs hallway and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to clear his head. He knew both Blake and Michonne were more than capable of taking care of themselves, but he'd lost so much, so many people. He just didn't want to lose anyone else. He slid down the wall to sit, sighing as he let the thoughts take over.

 _What if they don't come back? What if one of them gets bit? What if they get followed? What if they accidentally lead a heard of walkers back to the house?_

"Whatever happens, I'll deal with it." Rick whispered to himself, trying to push the thoughts from his head and reason with himself. The girls had only been gone for an hour. There was really no reason to worry. They knew how to take care of themselves; and each other.

"They'll be fine." Rick said in a slightly louder, firmer tone than before. He wasn't sure he believed himself, but he had to try.

Either way, all he could do for the time being was check on Carl, so Rick hauled himself to his feet and went downstairs to see if his son was still asleep.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWD**

All Blake could hear was the snarls. They were everywhere! She took a quick glance to her left, ensuring her travel companion was alright. She wasn't. "MICHONNE!"

* * *

 **Am I evil? I might be evil. I guess you'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out. Or maybe two more if I really feel like being cruel.**

 **Please review, PM, follow, favorite, anything to show you're into this story!**

 **'Till next time, hatsa la vista, baby!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello! Sorry for the super long wait between chapters, but I had so much Christmas stuff to do that I didn't even get a chance to write until now! the next update will come much faster, I promise!**

 **I don't own anything to do with the show, just Blake!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Blake readjusted the straps on the now very heavy backpack as she and Michonne walked down the road. The trip to the strip mall was successful, and the girls now had barrel bolt locks, some canned goods, clean clothes, some tools and a couple packages of stale M&M's. Both girls were ecstatic to find the candy, an extremely rare item in the current world situation.

The two walked in silence, not finding much to talk about. When they were about twenty minutes from the house, Blake heard some growls up ahead. She stopped, Michonne doing the same as they drew their blades and listened. The girls continued forward, slowly and quietly. As the growls got louder, they walked slower, until a few walkers appeared from the treeline.

There were four, easily put down by the katana and machete, but then more came out, three this time. Again, the beasts were silenced by swinging metal, but then more came. And more. And more.

"Come on!" Blake began swerving through the herd, glancing back to be sure Michonne was behind her. The two dodged lunging walkers, the jaws snapping and fingers reaching out to grab a hold of their flesh. Blake led Michonne down the road and away from the house, more walkers piling out of the woods every minute. Both girls were noticeably slower than usual due to the heavy bags, but adrenaline was coursing through both of them, making the running slightly less agonizing. Michonne followed Blake, praying that the girl knew where she was going because she sure as hell didn't.

They ran for a few minutes, putting some distance between themselves and the herd. After a while, they came to a steep embankment, which Blake proceeded to slide down. She took her backpack off, sending it down the fifty foot drop before stepping onto the loose ground in an attempt to reach the road at the bottom. As she was sliding, she saw Michonne's bag go tumbling after her own and heard her begin to make her way down what was practically a cliff as well.

A few walkers caught up to the girls when they were about halfway finished their trek downwards. The first few corpses fell right off the edge of the ridge in an attempt to catch their meal. All Blake could hear was the snarls. They were everywhere! She took a quick glance to her left, ensuring her travel companion was alright. She wasn't.

"MICHONNE!" Blake yelled as she saw her friend go down. A walker fell near her, hitting the hilt of her sheathed katana and knocking the woman off balance. To Blake's horror, she tumbled down the remaining twenty feet of the incline with the walker.

Blake forgot about being careful, dropped onto her stomach and rolled the rest of the way down, hitting the pavement with a thump but not feeling it as she scrambled to her feet and rushed to Michonne's aid. "Are you okay?" she exclaimed, offering a hand and stabbing the walker that fell on her. She hauled Michonne to her feet, seeing the woman only using her right leg.

"Just a sprained ankle." Michonne winced, obviously in pain.

"Oh god." Blake groaned as the walkers continued to fall around them. Fortunately, the walker's legs, necks or arms would break upon impact with the ground, meaning they couldn't attack the living people. "Come on, let's get back." Blake hooked an arm around Michonne's waist, attempting to let the woman use her as a crutch, but the significant height difference made it difficult. Blake picked up both bags, slinging one into place over her back and the other backwards over her shoulders so it hung across her chest. The two then made their way slowly to a car, Michonne practically hopping on one leg and leaning heavily on Blake.

Blake found a car that wasn't blocked in by other vehicles and tried the passenger side door handle, finding it-luckily-unlocked. She helped Michonne into the front seat, closing the door behind her. She then threw the bags in the back seat and circled around to the driver's side door, climbing in behind the wheel.

There were no keys in the vehicle, so Blake turned around in her seat, rummaging through one of the bags until she found a flathead screwdriver. She forced the screwdriver into the ignition, breaking the lock pins. The car whined as she turned the screwdriver as she would a car key. She tried again and the engine sputtered. "Come on, come on." She muttered, cranking the screwdriver one more time. The engine sputtered again but then turned over and came to life. "Yes." Blake sighed, leaning back against the seat.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Michonne asked, clutching at her calf to try to stop the excruciating pain radiating from her ankle.

"My dad taught me." Blake pulled her seatbelt on, buckling it in place before making sure she could reach the pedals okay. "Taught me to drive too."

"Good." Michonne pulled her seatbelt on as well, wincing as Blake hit the gas and the car started forwards with a slight jolt.

"Sorry." She mumbled, concentrating on not hitting the other cars in the road and jostling Michonne more. "Haven't done this in a while."

"It's okay." Michonne clenched her teeth as Blake tried to swerve as gently as possible between cars. "Not your fault."

Blake kept her eyes on the road and managed to get out of the traffic snarl without hitting any cars. She sped up a bit then, getting off of the major road and turning onto a side street. "We're taking the long way home. Just in case."

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Blake parked the car a few houses down from their own, just in case the alarm went off or someone wanted to take it and saw them inside. She hopped out of the vehicle, slung one bag over her back and one over her chest and helped Michonne out of the car. She had taken her shoe off and cut away part of her pant leg so the ankle could swell without causing her more pain and blocking circulation. It was not a pretty sight.

Michonne's leg was bruised from halfway down her shin to the tips of her toes and swollen to twice its size. Blake felt responsible for the injury, thinking they could have figured out a different way of getting away from the walkers, but she knew that they would have died if they had hung around any longer.

Blake noticed the curtains of their house moving. A moment later, Rick came jogging down the street.

"What the hell happened?" He asked, immediately gesturing for Blake to give him a bag and then hooking his own arm around Michonne's waist.

"We'll tell you inside." Michonne said, clearly just wanting to sit down. She was able to move much faster with two people helping her, especially since one of them was actually her height. It took no time at all to reach the house.

Once inside, Blake locked the front door while Rick helped Michonne into the kitchen and sat her down on a chair.

"I'll be right back!" Blake called, dropping the bag she carried on the floor before flying up the stairs in search of her mother's old walking cast. She ran down the hall and into her parent's room. Two steps into the room, she stopped dead.

Blake hadn't been in this room yet. She hadn't expected to be this affected by it. Memories streamed into her head. All of the good times she and her parents had shared. Images of her father pitching a baseball, taking her out for ice cream when she hit her first home run. Images of her and her mom going on trips to the mall or trying to bake cookies. Family dinners, board games when the power went out, trips to amusement parks where she would ride the spinnovator until she threw up. Feeding stray cats, helping an injured bird, learning to fish. Everything positive she had ever experienced with her parents flooded into her mind, but she couldn't quite remember either of their smiles. Then the bad things came. Hours of pacing at the safe zone, cold nights huddled around the fire together, the first walker kill, the first walker bite, the first human death. Blake couldn't remember her mother's smile, but she could remember the face she made when she was screaming. The expression that was glued onto her face for the last few moments of her life. She saw her father running into the pack and getting torn apart. She could hear the screams. She saw Tegan dying as she held her in her arms. The tears rolling down both of their faces. She saw her family die over and over and over again. She heard screaming. But it wasn't familiar. It sounded like a cat being strangled. Who was making that noise? They needed to stop. The screaming became clearer, and Blake realised ' _Holy shit. It's me_.' But she couldn't stop. She couldn't even feel the scream, she could just hear it.

"Blake." The voice was far away, and sounded as if it was coming through a thousand cotton balls. "Blake." It was clearer this time, and the screaming had stopped. "Blake!" okay that was Rick. Rick was calling her name. Why was Rick calling her name? "Blake!" Why couldn't she move? "BLAKE!" the fogginess went away. The memories stopped as if someone has flipped a switch. Blake was on the floor of her parent's bedroom, curled up in a ball, tears running down her cheeks. Her throat felt raw and her head hurt. Rick's hand was on her shoulder, shaking it. "Blake?" Rick said softly once the girl's eyes opened. "Are you okay?"

Blake slowly uncurled herself and sat up, facing a kneeling Rick. "What happened?" She asked, confused.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Rick sat down in front of Blake, his brow furrowed. "You were up here a while-ten minutes maybe-then we heard you scream and fall, I came up here and you were on the floor."

"Panic attack." Blake shrugged, still mildly trembling. "I'm okay."

"You sure?" Rick stood and held put a hand to the girl, she took it, her hands shaking.

"Yeah." If there was one thing Blake was really good at, it was lying.

* * *

 **I hope that was action-y enough... the last couple chapter were mostly fillers so I could get my thoughts straight about the direction this story is going in.**

 **I'm trying for another chapter or two before my Christmas break ends, so keep an eye out!**

 **As always, please review/follow/favorite or PM me! I love talking about anything TWD related.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello!**

 **This chapter is kind of fluffy, but it gets a bit exciting towards the end.**

 **As always, I own nothing to do with The Walking dead. Wish I did, but I don't.**

 **Aaaaaand go!**

* * *

"Hey." Blake greeted Carl as she walked into the living room. "How're you feeling?" she sat down on the couch next to him, offering him a can of corn that she had just opened for breakfast. She snuck a peek at Carl's stiches. He had kept the cut jeans on, allowing easy access to the injured area. The stitches themselves looked fine, and the area around them didn't seem overly swollen or irritated.

Carl took the offered spoon and had a bite of corn, savoring the sweet flavor. "Better." He answered around a mouthful before swallowing. "Leg still hurts like a bitch, but not bad other than that."

"Good." Blake got up again, leaving the corn with Carl.

"Wow, great conversation!" he called to her as she left the room.

"Oh shush!" Blake teased back, smirking. "I'll be back." She was just going to the kitchen. "I was out searching some houses with your dad yesterday and ran across something you could use." She explained as she came back into the living room. "Ta-daaa!" she displayed the crutches to Carl.

"Nice!" he smiled, enjoying the thought of getting off the couch and moving around without someone else's help.

"Once we're done breakfast we should go for a walk, test them out."

"Where?" Carl handed the can back to Blake.

"The creek isn't even thirty feet from the backdoor. We can go refill water, maybe wash some clothes."

"Sounds good." Carl reached down to grab his hat and moved to put it on his head, but Blake swooped in, grabbed it and placed it atop her own head. "Hey!" Carl objected, laughing. He snatched for the hat.

Blake stood up and moved the crutches out of her friend's reach. "Come get me!" she taunted.

"Okay, not fair!"

"What are you two doing?" Michonne chuckled as she limped into the room, still not used to the air cast she had to wear. It reminded Blake of when her mother missed the bottom step and tore ligaments in her ankle. She had to wear the cast for two months and never quite got used to it.

"Quick Michonne! Get my hat back!" Carl laughed, noticing how good the hat looked on Blake.

"You mean this one?" Michonne quickly plucked the hat off of Blake's head and placed it on her own. "I think I'll keep it."

"Oh no you won't!" Blake snatched at the hat, knocking it to the floor and accidentally sending it towards Carl. He picked it up and held it away from Blake, who was reluctant to climb over him for fear of causing her friend pain.

They went on like this for a few minute, allowing themselves the fun distraction, but stopped just before Rick came downstairs. "Morning." He greeted, pausing when he saw his old hat sitting on Blake's head. Carl had let her win the game and wear the hat for a while. "How is everyone?"

"Fine." The other three replied in unison.

"Good." Rick nodded, heading to the kitchen and coming back out with a can of peaches for him and Michonne seeing as Blake and Carl were already partway through a can of corn. They had lots of food from scavenging around the houses and the girl's run a few days ago. "I don't really have anything planned for today, anyone have requests?"

"I was planning on doing some laundry and filling up on water." Blake sat down on the couch again. "I was thinking maybe Carl could come too, since we have the crutches now."

Rick looked concerned and contemplated it. "Okay." He seemed very reluctant to allow his son out of the house. "Just make sure you have plenty of ammo."

"Of course." Carl and Blake replied at the same time.

"You want to check out some of the closer houses?" Michonne suggested. They had started scavenging at the far end of the street and were working their way back.

"Sure, maybe a couple." Rick agreed, handing her the now open can of peaches and a plastic fork. "We'll go after we finish eating."

A half hour later, Blake had gathered all of the dirty clothes, a bottle of dish soap and the empty water bottles into a laundry basket. Carl had gotten up off the couch using one of his crutches for balance and limped to the backdoor, waiting for Blake.

"Be careful." Rick said, squeezing Carl's shoulder. He looked like he wanted to tell them not to go, but Rick knew Blake was more than capable of watching over Carl, and wouldn't take any chances. Besides, Carl could still shoot a gun, if it came down to that.

"We will." Carl smiled reassuringly at his father.

"Yell if anything happens; we won't be far."

"Okay."

"Ready?" Blake asked, opening the door as she did so.

"Yup." Carl nodded and followed her out the door.

The creek was less than two minutes walk from the house, even with Carl's half speed crutch walking. Once there, Blake helped Carl sit down on the bank, left leg stretched out beside him. She sat next to him and duped the clothes that needed washing on the ground. She passed about a third of the clothes to Carl, knowing he wouldn't wash as fast as her. Both teens rolled up their sleeves, not wanting to get them wet in the cold water.

Blake could feel Carl's eyes on her as she opened the bottle of soap and poured a bit onto Rick's very bloodstained shirt. "What?" She asked with a smirk, turning her head so she could see Carl's stare and handing him the soap.

"Nothing." He smiled. "I still want my hat back." He poured some soap onto the jeans he held and dunked them in the water.

"I'm still not giving it back." Blake smiled, turning back to the dirty shirts and scrubbing at the blood stains with her hands. "Looks too good on me." She joked.

Carl sighed "You're right." He agreed. At that comment, both teen's heads snapped up and they met each other's eyes.

"Thanks." Blake felt her cheeks go red and looked back to the shirt she was cleaning. The comment was obviously a slip, which made it super cute.

"Well, it's true." Carl's face also began to get warm, and both teens went back to washing the clothes in silence.

After a few minutes-and a few more articles of clothing-Blake struck up another conversation. "Carl?" She said, quietly.

"Yeah?" He turned, handing her the shirt he had just finished cleaning.

Blake placed the shirt in the laundry basket with the other clean clothes as she responded "Do you remember that day in third grade when Mrs. Mueller brought us cookies and licorice?"

"Oh yeah." He smiled. "We had a competition to see who could build the tallest block tower that day, right?"

"We did."

"Mine fell over, you won." He chuckled, remembering that day, how much fun they'd had.

"Actually…" Blake giggled, remembering the day. "I may or may not have cheated and knocked your tower over."

"What?!" Carl exclaimed, pretending to be mad. "How could you do that to me?"

"I'm sorry!" the two were trying their hardest not to laugh. "Third grade Blake was competitive!"

"You have always been competitive and always will be!" Carl finally let out his laughter. "It wasn't just third grade you! We were on the same soft ball team, remember?"

Blake gave in too, and let the laughs come out. "Right, I forgot about that."

Carl and Blake just laughed for a while, thinking about the old days when this much laughter was normal.

Once the giggles died down, both teen stared at each other, smiling, memories passing through their heads. Fond memories of partner projects in science class, homework sessions at each other's houses, video games, movie marathons, cheering each other on during softball games, pitching for each other after school. Blake remembered all of the times that Carl defended her when boys from other teams would tease her for being a girl. Carl remembered when Andrew Silton-the class bully-tried to beat him up for no reason, and Blake tackled him. She earned a detention for that one, but she didn't care, as long as Carl was okay. They had always been close, best friends even. They spent almost every day after school together, whether it was at softball practice or a study session, the two were together more often than they were apart. Rick and Lori always teased Carl about having a crush on Blake, and her parents did the same. They both always denied it but now…

The teens were startled out of their thoughts by the all too familiar snarls of walkers and Blake was on her feet in an instant. She had her machete out and Carl pulled his pistol, just in case. The walkers stumbled out of the trees, three of them.

"Save your bullets." Blake said to Carl, walking towards the snarling beasts so they wouldn't go near Carl or the clean laundry.

Blake easily sliced through the walkers, their heads coming clean off their shoulders with each swing of her machete. "Nice." Carl smiled at Blake as she began cleaning the machete in the river. She smiled back at Carl, a smile that dropped in an instant when she saw the very quiet walker lunge at him. Blake sprinted the ten feet between them and dove over Carl just as the walker grabbed him. The girl and the body went tumbling Backwards, and the walker ended up on top of Blake, snapping its teeth and grabbing at her face. Blake realised why they hadn't heard the thing earlier: its throat was ripped to shreds to the point where a single growl couldn't escape its decayed lips.

Blake tried to throw the thing off of her, but it weighed too much, she was too small. She realised she had dropped her machete in the rush to help Carl, and she couldn't let go of the walker to grab Tegan's knife unless she wanted the thing to bite her throat out.

The walker jerked to the right in an attempt to get to its meal, and Blake lost her grip on the thing. It fell on top of her, but didn't bite. It was silent. Carl was standing above Blake, ripping the knife out of the walker's skull and helping to push it off of Blake, who sprung to her feet and wrapped her arms around Carl's neck. She was breathing hard as the adrenaline wore off, and realised she was slightly frightened from the near death experience.

"Are you okay?" Carl hugged her back, slightly panicking from seeing Blake come so close to death.

"Yeah." Blake's voice was breathy as she tried to calm her spastic lungs, "Are you?"

"Me?" Carl exclaimed, holding Blake by her shoulders and looking into her eyes. "You're the one who almost died. That thing barely touched me before you jumped in. Literally. Jumped."

"What's wrong?" Blake asked as she noticed Carl wince slightly, shifting his balance. Blake's eyes found their way down to Carl's leg. A leg that was drenched in blood.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed! Another chapter will be up either tonight or tomorrow.**

 **Please review!**

 **'Til next time!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Ugh it's been so long!**

 **So sorry for the wait, but exams are approaching at lightning speed and homework is priority.**

 **This chapter is mostly filler as I am sorting out my ideas again.**

 **As always, I unfortunately don't own anything related to The Walking Dead.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"What happened?" Blake knelt to the ground to see what was wrong with Carl's leg. She was relieved when she figured out the problem. "You broke your stitches! How did you manage that?"

"Well I don't know." Carl responded at Blake stood back up. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I ran over here to rescue you." He smirked.

"Well that is definitely a possibility." Blake smirked back, allowing Carl to lean on her as they made their way over to Carl's discarded crutches. "Here." Blake bent down to hand Carl his crutches. "Let's get back to the house a stitch you up." She said, throwing the water bottles and soap into the laundry basket that already held the clean clothes. They started walking back to the house, Carl's leg bleeding heavily and leaving a trail in the grass. "You okay?" Blake asked.

"Yeah, fine." Carl smiled back, but his eyes gave away the pain he was in.

They reached the house a moment later, Blake opening the door for Carl. He made his way over to the couch, sitting down while Blake retrieved makeshift first aid kit from the kitchen.

"We're out of peroxide." She sighed, mixing some soap and water to try and sterilize the stitching equipment. "Here." She dipped a cleanest cloth she could find in the soapy water and handed it to Carl. "Clean it up a bit. It'll hurt less if you do it."

"Okay." He started wiping the blood away, trying not to make faces as the soap ad pressure stung his wound.

Blake finished threading the needle and placed it in the water to let it soak. "Good thing you left these pants on." Blake smirked, referring to the jeans she had cut up when Carl had first gotten shot. "I don't have to ruin the new jeans I found." Carl smiled back, handing the cloth back after he cleaned most of the blood way. "This is going to hurt." Blake warned as she set up to remove the broken stitches.

"Think I'm used to it by now." Carl's attempt at a joke didn't make Blake smile as he intended it to. She just concentrated on pulling the thread out without causing Carl more pain than was inevitable.

"You okay?" Blake asked as Carl's leg jerked slightly.

"Yeah." He tried to keep his leg from moving. "Keep going."

The thread came out in four pieces, each one causing Carl more pain. Blake mumbled an apology every time Carl flinched.

Once the thread was all out, Blake grabbed the rethreaded needle. "This is also going to hurt." Blake warned again, deciding where to start with the stitches.

"Let me know when something isn't going to hurt, will you?" Carl sighed, only half joking. His leg had been throbbing in pain with each heartbeat for the past three days, pain that only worsened when something touched the wound or the area around it. He gripped the edge of the couch as Blake started sewing the still bleeding hole for the second time. The stitches hurt a little more than the removal of the thread, but Blake was quick and meticulous, getting the job done in a few minutes. "Thanks." Carl released his grip on the couch, relaxing slightly while Blake cleaned the dried blood and proceeded to bandage the wound using gauze pads and a ripped up t-shirt.

"No problem." She put the 'medical' equipment back in the bag and taking it back to the kitchen where everything was kept in bags. Just in case. Blake went back to the living room, sitting down on the couch with Carl.

"Here." Blake finally took the sheriff's hat off of her head and handed it back to Carl.

"Thanks." He smiled.

"Your dad was sheriff's deputy, right?" Blake asked.

"Yeah, why?" Carl placed the hat back on his head.

"Why do you wear his hat?" Blake smirked.

"Well, a while back-" Carl was interrupted by the front door opening. Blake aimed her gun, but it was just Rick and Michonne. She quickly put the weapon down.

"Hey." She smiled as Rick placed a bag in the kitchen and came out into the living room. "Find anything useful?"

"Yeah, actually." Rick ran a hand over his beard, but then his eyes traveled to the floor. More specifically, the fresh blood on the floor. "What happened?" He exclaimed, looking both teens over. Michonne dropped her bags and rushed into the room as well, making sure everyone was okay.

"It's fine." Carl assured his father. "We're all good."

"Where'd the blood come from?" Michonne asked, noticing the new trail of congealing red liquid leading from the back door to the couch.

"Carl broke his stitches." Blake explained. "But I fixed them."

"How?" Rick gave his son another onceover, making certain he was unharmed.

"A walker attacked Blake, I had to help her."

"You couldn't shoot it?"

"Could've shot her." It was true, the walker's head was much too close to Blake's

"You're okay?" Rick asked both of the kids, looking to each one for their nod of confirmation. "Okay. That's all that matters."

"So." Blake jumped in. "What did you find?"

"Water, batteries and these." Michonne smiled and reached into a bag, pulling out a walkie-talkie. "There's four. We'll each keep one and a spare set of batteries. We can talk to each other while we're on runs or communicate of any of us ever get separated."

"Cool!" Blake got up and retrieved the two radios Michonne offered to her. She handed one to Carl and clipped the other to her own belt, making sure it would always be within reach. Michonne secured hers to her belt and Blake noticed that Rick already had his on. "Any idea what the range is?"

"No," Michonne sighed. "hopefully we won't need to find out."

"Hopefully." Rick agreed.

"You want to move upstairs?" Blake suggested to Carl. "There are four bedrooms. Board games. Safer if anything happened."

"That's a good idea." Rick agreed. "We aren't going far anytime soon. Staying upstairs might be a good idea for all of us."

"Sounds good to me." Carl agreed. "How many locks are left to put up?"

"Four." Blake answered, she, Michonne and Rick had already installed six locks, and they had found ten. "Shouldn't take more than ten minutes."

"Blake and I can do that." Michonne said. "Why don't you and Carl get settled upstairs?" the question was directed at Rick.

"Yeah." Rick nodded, stepping towards the couch as Blake went to grab the locks, screws and screw drivers.

"Just so you know," Blake called as Rick and Carl started heading upstairs, "board games are under the bed in the first bedroom on the right side of the hall."

* * *

 **Meh, boring chapter. Next one will be more exciting, I promise!**

 **Please review, I love hearing from people whether its positive feedback or constructive criticism!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi friends!**

 **Sorry for the wait (again), but life just gets in the way of everything, you know?**

 **I'm not going to give some long-winded excuse for the lateness of this chapter, so I'm just going to say, I don't have anything to do with this amazing show, the only thing in this story that I own is Blake.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Ha-ha!" Blake exclaimed when she pulled a straw out of the tower and no marbles fell.

Carl went next. As he pulled his selected straw out of the plastic case, the remaining twelve marbles spilled into his slot. He half sighed, shaking his head.

"You're cheating." Carl accused with mock anger but real astonishment in his voice.

Blake, incredulous, asked, "How on _Earth_ could I possibly cheat at kerplunk?"

"I don't know, but you're doing it." Carl pointed sternly at his friend while Rick and Michonne laughed.

Rick recalled all of the times that Blake had come over after school; she and Carl had played this game for hours on end, they never got bored of it. He never understood how trying to keep marbles suspended between plastic straws had caused such loud 'arguments' between the two, but he got it now. The game was intense! And it was suspicious that Blake hadn't knocked a single marble from the nest of straws.

"You know, I agree with Carl on this one." Rick smiled. "What's your secret, Blake?"

"Not you too Rick!" Blake cried, feigning shock while trying to hold her laughter in. "This is nepotism."

"Nope." Michonne chimed in. "I'm with the guys. How're you doing it?"

Blake smirked slyly and wiggled her fingers as if casting a spell. "Ancient Welsh secret."

"What?" Carl finally let his laughter out while Blake managed to keep hers in.

"Well, I'm not Chinese so I can't really use 'ancient Chinese secret' now can I?" She explained matter-of-factly while the others continued laughing. "Damn," Blake muttered, smiling at the fact that what was outside didn't matter right now, "you guys glad I found you or what?"

"Yeah." Carl smiled at Blake from across the bed, not able to remember the last time he'd laughed this much.

"Absolutely." Rick patted Blake's shoulder.

"You know what I think?" Blake tapped her chin, pretending to be thinking.

"What's that?" Carl mimicked her hand movement, staring her in the eyes and forcing his laughter to cease.

"I think you're just a sore loser, my friend."

"Now that may very well be true, but you're still a cheater."

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

"Shit." Blake cursed under her breath, replacing the curtains and checking to make sure all of the windows and doors were locked. The sound of a decaying hand slapping against the door made Blake jump, and she ran upstairs quickly and quietly, heading right into the guest bedroom at the end of the hall where Rick was sleeping.

"Rick." She shook his shoulder, waking him. "We got walkers outside. About a dozen." Blake was the first one awake as usual, the sunrise was her alarm clock.

"They know we're in here?" He asked, sitting up and preparing his gun.

"Yeah." Blake left the room, grabbing Carl's gun from the room he was sleeping in. Tegan's room. She still couldn't go in there without keeping her gaze trained on the floor, and didn't want to go in there at all, but Carl's gun had a silencer, and the less noise they made the better.

Blake borrowed Carl's belt off the bedside table and strapped it around her waist quietly, not wanting to wake him; he hadn't been feeling well the night before.

Blake met Rick and Michonne downstairs, at the back door.

"Guns are a last resort. I'll go around the left side, you two take the right." Both girls nodded in agreement. "Alright, let's go."

Rick opened the door and started around one side of the house. Blake and Michonne went the other way, going as fast as Michonne's air cast would allow. The two reached the front end of the house and pressed their backs against the wall, Michonne sliding past Blake at the last second and standing in front of her. Blake rolled her eyes and smirked, finding it funny that Rick and Michonne thought they needed to protect her.

The walkers were loud, groaning and snarling and banging on the front of the house, and their smell was worse. Rotting corpse was definitely not a scent that anyone ever needed to smell.

Suddenly, a whistle sounded from the other end of the house. Michonne stepped out into the open, Blake right behind her. About half of the walkers turned to Michonne and Blake, while the others turned in Rick's direction. Blake grabbed the nearest walker by the shirt and stabbed it through the temple, letting its head slide off of her machete as she slashed at the next one, chopping the head clean off.

Blake glanced to the side as she kicked the next walker back, making sure Michonne was alright. She was this time. The samurai managed to skewer three advancing walkers, then pull her sword up through their chests, essentially slicing them in half.

Realizing that the walkers on their side of the battle were all dead-or had fallen after being kicked-and rushed to the other side of the house, stomping on the fallen walker's head as she passed. Seeing as Rick was only one person and more walkers had flocked to his side of the house, he was obviously having a bit more difficulty killing the walkers.

Blake sliced through two, the tops of their heads flying through the air and making a disgusting pile of brains, blood and rotting skin on the overgrown lawn. Rick stabbed a walker while Blake grabbed one that was getting too close for comfort. Michonne's sword came out of nowhere, stabbing the walker Blake was holding and spraying her with blood. Blake pushed the body away, wrinkling her nose at the congealed mess that covered her hoodie, jeans and combat boots. Rick took down the last walker and nodded in thanks to Blake and Michonne.

"Should we move the bodies?" Blake asked, concerned about another group of survivors seeing the pile of twice-dead corpses and figuring out that they were inside.

"Yeah, probably." Rick panted from the exertion of killing the walkers and the adrenaline high that was wearing off.

"We can take care of it." Michonne stated in reference to her and Rick. "Go change and keep Carl company."

"You sure?" Blake asked, not wanting to sit around and do nothing when she could be helping.

"Yeah, we've got it." Rick agreed. "Won't take long."

"Okay." Blake sighed, kneeling to wipe her bloody machete on a dead walker's shirt. She didn't feel the need to deliberately smear herself with guts. "Come get me if you need anything." Blake started back around the house, entering through the backdoor and locking it behind her. She then went to the front door and unlocked it, poking her head outside to let Rick and Michonne know.

Blake was slightly ticked that Rick and Michonne wouldn't let her help out, but she wasn't too upset considering she and Carl got to hang out for a bit. Although, after being on her own for so long, it was strange to have others looking after her.

Blake wandered into her bedroom where the bag of clothes was and started digging through it. After a few minutes, she pulled out a pair of black skinny jeans, a grey long-sleeve and a dark burgundy hoodie, identical to the one she was currently wearing.

The teen got her bloody clothes off without getting any of the gory mess on her skin, and slipped into the fresh, clean outfit. She slid her combat boots back on, and headed across the hall to see Carl.

It was strange that Carl wasn't awake yet, he was usually up with the sun like Blake. She sat on the edge of the bed and admired how peaceful he looked for a moment before brushing loose strands of dark hair off of his forehead. As Blake's fingertips made contact with Carl's skin, she noticed that his face was alarmingly warm and slick with a thin layer of sweat.

"Carl." She shook his shoulder, concerned. "Wake up, bud."

"Hey." Carl groggily opened his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Eight thirty maybe?" Blake guessed. She had never really been good at telling time by the sun.

"Why'd you guys let me sleep so long?" He asked, sitting up partway before a grimace crossed his face and a hand flew to his stomach.

"Carl, lie down." Blake ordered. For once, he obliged without protest. "Here." Blake unscrewed the cap of a water bottle and handed it to her friend, who drank willingly. Blake pressed a hand to Carl's forehead, and bit her lip in concern. "You're burning up." She said, taking the water back and placing it on the bed side table where she'd gotten it before pulling the covers back.

"What are you doing?" Carl asked, curiously.

"Checking…" Blake answered distantly while she rolled up Carl's pant leg as gently as she could. "Goddamn it." Blake sat back on her heels and brushed the hair out of her face staring at the swollen, reddened wound in front of her. "It's infected."

* * *

 **Next chapter might take a while as exams are coming up soon and still I need to finish culminating tasks.**

 **Please review! I'm not really feeling the love here... ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Well this happened sooner than I expected...**

 **Hello all! I hope you like this chapter, although it's not super action packed... just a little bit of arguing.**

 **As always, I don't own anything to do with The Walking Dead, unfortunately.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Rick!" Blake called as she opened the front door. He and Michonne were not immediately visible, but they came around the side of a house three lots down a moment later.

"What's wrong?" He asked, jogging to meet Blake on the porch, his breath visible in the cold air.

"Carl's wound is infected." Blake ran a hand through her hair, a nervous habit. "He's got a fever and the area is swollen."

"What can we do?" Michonne asked, looking between Blake and Rick.

"He's going to need anti-biotics." Rick sighed nervously. He knew infections progressed quickly, especially in a world as filthy as the one they were living in. "Nearest pharmacy is burned out, we won't get anything there."

"That one was tiny." Blake had seen the remains of the town, there was nothing left. "There's a bigger one not too far from here, about a forty five minute drive maybe?"

"Does the car have enough gas?" Michonne glanced at the vehicle parked down the street, a doubtful look crossing her face.

"No," Blake shook her head, "we were running on fumes when we pulled up."

"So we go on foot." Rick decided, seemingly ready.

"You're not coming." Blake said, incredulous. "If anything happens out there and you don't come back…" Blake trailed off. That sentence didn't exactly need a conclusion.

"You're not going alone." Rick shot back, concern sneaking into his voice.

"Michonne can't go." Blake pointed out. "It'll take twice as long."

"Then I'm coming." Rick put his foot down.

"No." Blake was adamant. Carl needed Rick. "I can do it myself. You know how long I was out there."

"You can't go alone." Rick was beginning to get frustrated. He didn't want to send the teenager out on her own.

"Yes, I can." Blake was also beginning to get angry. "And I'm going to."

"It's too danger-"

"Rick." Blake interrupted. "The way I see it, Carl needs two things right now. Medicine, and his father. Seeing as we only have one of those things here… well, one is better than none."

"But-"

"But nothing." Blake could see she was finally getting through to Rick. "What if a herd of walkers came through here? Michonne wouldn't be able to handle it alone."

"But what if you run into a herd out there?" Michonne questioned. Blake had almost forgotten she was there.

"Then I'll do what I've always done before: climb a tree and wait until something else distracts them."

There was a moment of hesitant silence that included Rick and Michonne glancing at each other a lot. They seemed to have a conversation with their facial expressions before Rick let out a long puff of air and said, "How long will you be?" At that statement, Blake knew Rick was accepting that she had to go, and she had to go alone.

"If I leave in the next few minutes, I'll be back before sunset tomorrow."

"Then we'd better get you ready." Michonne gave her a small smile. She knew Blake could handle herself, but in the short time they'd been together, everyone had gotten attached to the teenager. She seemed to be fearless, always throwing herself in harm's way for others and coming out of everything unscathed. It was admirable and terrifying at the same time.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Rick insisted on packing a bag for Blake, so she went upstairs to get some warmer clothes on and tell Carl what was happening. Once Blake had found a Pair of tights that fit under her jeans, she grabbed an extra pair of socks and slipped them over her feet before replacing her leather boots. The shirt she had on was warm, but she exchanged it for a thermal long sleeve from her mother's wardrobe before sliding her hoodie back on. The shirt was too big, but that didn't bother Blake too much. She ran to the bathroom to brush her hair-she knew that she wouldn't get to do that again until the next day at least-then put it in a tight French braid, hoping it wouldn't fall out and be a distraction while she was out there.

Before Blake left the bathroom, she looked in the mirror for the first time since they'd been in the house. She had avoided it until now, and she figured out why very quickly. The girl staring back at her was not Blake.

Blake had dirty blonde hair that lived in a ponytail, this girl had a messy French braid, bleached platinum by the sun and so greasy it looked wet. Blake's eyes were full of confidence and happiness, the eyes of this girl were hardened and held memories of horrors nobody should ever have to experience. Blake didn't have a scar on her hairline from getting caught on a tree branch and trying to treat a concussion by herself. Blake's cheekbones weren't that prominent from not eating for days. She didn't have purple bags under her eyes from not sleeping. This wasn't Blake. This was someone else. Someone who had to kill her mother and sister. Someone who had to listen to her father die. Someone who had killed more people that she could count, been drenched in blood so many times that it felt weird when she wasn't, got so used to the smell of walkers that she thought it was normal, she was someone who didn't feel hunger anymore because of the constant lack of food, someone who was always thirsty and someone who had learned how dangerous people could be. But she was lucky. And she smiled when she looked in the mirror because she was strong enough to survive the hell on earth that she lived in every day. And she was going to live.

With that thought, she exited the bathroom, leaving the stranger in the mirror behind and becoming Blake again.

"Hey loser." Blake smirked as she entered the room.

"Hey cheater." Carl teased back.

"So I'm going out for a while." Blake perched on the edge of the bed.

"Oh yeah?" Carl furrowed his brow, concerned.

"Yeah. You need antibiotics." Blake explained.

"Is Michonne going with you?"

"No. I'm going myself."

"The pharmacy burned down. Where are you going?"

"Next town over has the big pharmacy, remember?"

"You're going that far?"

"Yes. I have to. You know I can take care of myself, Carl."

"I know."

"Blake?" Rick's voice sounded form the stairs along with his footsteps.

"In here." She called back.

"Hey." Rick appeared in the doorway carrying a backpack. He walked into the room, placing a hand on his son's forehead. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He smiled back.

"I'm going to go…" Blake felt as if she was intruding, so she got up off the bed but felt Carl grab her hand.

"Wait." She turned back to Carl, neither of them letting go of each other's hands. "Come back."

"Come on, Grimes." Blake smiled, using the nickname he had gotten on the softball team. "You're not getting rid of me that easy."

* * *

 **I don't really have much to say for this one, so I'll just say Please Review! Thank you to the two people who have left comments, I appreciate it!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I don't have much to say about this one, so yeah.**

 **I don't own anything to do with the show or characters, blah blah blah.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Blake?" A burst of static made the teenager jump as Rick's voice came through the radio. She rolled her eyes as it had only been about fifteen minutes since the last time he'd contacted her.

"I'm here." She said into the speaker as she continued forward. "What's up?"

"Just making sure you're okay." The concern in Rick's voice made Blake roll her eyes again, with a smirk this time.

"I'm fine. I've only been gone for like three hours."

"He knows that." Michonne's voice came through next.

"Hey, Michonne." Blake genuinely smiled. She was quite fond of the samurai.

"He's just a worrier." Blake could tell Michonne was smiling as she spoke.

"I know. But please, the static is loud, and I don't like- hold on a sec." Blake pulled out her machete, stabbed the walker in the eye, and wiped the blade off on the walker's shirt before sliding it back into the sheath. "Sorry, walker. As I was saying, I don't like advertising my presence to whatever or whoever is nearby. So can we keep the contacting to a minimum please?"

"No problem." Michonne knew exactly what Blake meant. "I'll keep Rick busy for a few hours, but I'll keep the radio on me just in case."

"Alright." And with that, the conversation ended.

Blake continued walking down the road, keeping close to the edge just in case she had to jump the fence into a backyard. For now, she was okay with walking without much cover, seeing as the air was nearly silent. She had missed this, the silence of nature, broken only by her own footsteps and breath.

It felt more normal to be outside, away from people. She had always known she was close to her old home, but had never gone back for fear that it wasn't there anymore. Or maybe for fear that it was. Blake never would have been able to face it alone, but when Carl was injured she felt she had no choice but to take everyone there. Being home, it felt strange. It didn't feel like home. Outside in the cold air, that's where Blake felt she belonged now. There was no home, just inside and outside. And being outside felt better. Inside, it felt like she was hiding, trying to not face the world, but outside, she felt confident in her ability to survive, and she was never scared.

Blake realised that she had never really had time to be scared. When the government personnel had taken everyone to the safe zone, she had truly felt safe. The people defending the neighborhood had guns and training, there was no reason to be scared. Once they had left, she always had to look out for Tegan. When her parents died, she didn't even have time to be sad. Everything happened so fast all the time, there was no way to keep up with everything emotionally, which was a good thing when she was alone.

Blake's thoughts were interrupted by snarls, and she looked up to see four walkers slowly making their way around a corner ahead. She sighed before grabbing her machete and heading towards the dead ones.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Rick sat at the foot of Carl's bed, staring out the window at the sunset. He couldn't believe that he'd let Blake go out there on her own. In the days that she'd been with them, Blake had found her way into everyone's hearts, and regardless of how long she was out there on her own, Rick was worried.

"She's fine you know." Michonne came into the room carrying a bottle of water. "She can take care of herself."

"I know." Rick sighed, shifting his gaze to his sleeping son, leaning towards him and placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. "Fever's getting worse."

"Blake will be back tomorrow." Michonne assured, passing the water to Rick. "He'll be fine."

"I hope so." Rick took a sip of water. "Have you heard from her yet?"

"No." Michonne shrugged, trying to ease Rick's worried mind. "She's probably finding somewhere to stay for the night."

"You think I was right to let her go?"

"Yes." Michonne sat down, looking Rick in the eyes. "I know what it's like to be out there by yourself. Once you've done it once, you never forget; it's like riding a bike. She can take care of herself, I'm surprised you don't think so considering how much she's been taking care of us."

"She's always been like that." Rick smiled, remembering the days before the outbreak. "Putting everyone else before herself. One time, when she and Carl were in the fifth grade, some kid in their class decided to beat Carl up, just for the hell of it. Kid couldn't even get a punch in before Blake tackled him. He was about three times the size of her, but she took him down, didn't even think about it."

"She had him crying in less than a minute." Carl groggily opened his eyes. "It was great."

"I'm sure." Michonne grinned.

"You know, she was the only girl on my softball team." Carl pushed himself up on his elbows so he could see the adults better. "Guys on other teams would make fun of her, and the rest of the team, but she was the best player on the team. Hit at least one home run every game."

"She wasn't afraid to stand up for herself, or anyone else." Rick smiled, shaking his head at all of the memories that had surfaced since the teenager had found them in the woods.

"That's why she's so equipped for this world." Michonne smiled too. "She knows how to handle herself in a way that keeps her alive and safe."

"True." Carl also let a smile creep onto his face, choosing to ignore the throbbing in his leg and head. "I just wish we'd found her sooner."

"So do I." Rick sighed.

"Rick?" Blake's voice suddenly came through the radio on Michonne's hip, making everyone perk up. "Michonne?"

"Hey," Michonne answered, "how're you doing?"

"Fine, I'm about an hour away from the pharmacy." Blake explained. "How's Carl?"

Carl gestured for Michonne to hand him the walkie talkie, so she did. "Hey cheater." He smirked as he called Blake by her new nickname.

"Hey loser." Blake's smile was audible. "How're you feeling?"

"Could be better, but not too bad." Carl lied through his teeth, he felt awful, but he didn't want anyone to worry more that they had to. "Where're you staying tonight?"

"A house. There was a broken window, but no sign that this place has been lived in for a long time. There would be footprints in the dust if anyone had been here recently."

"Good." Carl breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'll talk to you guys tomorrow, I need to be up early if I'm going to be back before sunset."

"Alright. Be safe."

"I will."

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Blake set the radio on the bedside table, and laid down on her back, facing the ceiling. She knew she wouldn't sleep for a while, but closed her eyes all the same, trying to trick her mind into relaxing.

After about an hour of lying there wide awake, Blake turned over to pick up the radio, but knocked it to the floor. A burst of static startled her, and she reached over the edge of the bed to grab it. An unfamiliar female voice was coming through the speaker, but only random syllables could be heard through the static.

Remembering that she and the others were communicating on channel four, Blake switched the frequencies until the voice became clearer. She couldn't get it to the point of her conversations with Rick, Michonne and Carl, but she could make out about every other word.

"Who… survive… sanctuary… for all… there… follow… tracks meet…. maps… crossings… guide… journey…"

Blake tilted her head, curious. It was probably a recording, but even so, it might be worth checking out. If there was an organized community out there somewhere, and Blake was close enough to pick up the signal, she might just have to tell Rick and Michonne about it once Carl was well enough to travel.

With that thought in her head, Blake definitely wasn't getting any sleep.

* * *

 **Mostly filler, next chapter is more exciting. Please review! and Check out my one shot series, What If**


	13. Chapter 13

**So this chapter has a bit more action, so hopefully its more exciting than the last one.**

 **As always, I don't own anything to do with the show.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Blake stood in front of the pharmacy panting, relieved she had finally made it. She had decided to run the last three miles to save time and get back to Carl, Rick and Michonne sooner.

Once she caught her breath, Blake whistled loudly and opened the unlocked door, listening for groans. There was no response to the high pitched sound, so Blake went in.

She pulled the walkie from her belt and turned it on, wanting to contact the others. "Rick?" She said into the speaker. "I'm at the pharmacy." There was static from the other end, which Blake assumed the others heard as well. "Lovely." She muttered to herself.

Once Blake hooked the radio on her belt, leaving it on just in case the signal picked back up, she set out in search of antibiotics for Carl. Blake was glad that Rick had finally let her go on this run, Carl needed medicine. Plus, Blake needed to remember what it was like to be on her own.

Blake thought about Carl and she began searching the dark, dusty pharmacy, how warm his flushed skin was. The fever was high, meaning his body was already fighting the infection, but it was doubtful that he could completely cure the infection without the aid of antibiotics.

A quick trip to the back of the pharmacy and over the prescription counter rewarded Blake with a locked cabinet. She knew that the antibiotics were kept in this cabinet. Her mother had refilled prescriptions at this pharmacy occasionally, with Blake along for the ride.

Blake knelt before the small white cabinet, sliding the slightly heavy bag off of her shoulders and searching through it for the screwdriver she had packed. She groaned at the amount of cans Rick had packed. There were at least six left, and she had eaten two yesterday. She really didn't eat much nowadays, she didn't want or need to. The screwdriver had slipped through the cans, right to the bottom of the bag. Once Blake's fingers found the small metal device, she pulled it out and jammed it into the lock, jimmying it for a few seconds before hearing a click and swinging the door open. She grabbed all of the translucent orange bottles, not knowing what was in them or what they were used for. She didn't have time to go through all of the labels and figure out which one she needed, she could do that later with Rick and Michonne to make things go three times as fast. She just needed to get back, which unfortunately wouldn't happen until sunset if she walked as fast as she could. Running wouldn't help this time. The pill bottles would rattle and attract walkers or people. She didn't want to deal with either.

A burst of static startled Blake as she slung the bag back over her shoulder. She quickly unhooked the walkie form her belt and listened. The connection was broken by static, and she still couldn't make out any words.

"Michonne?" Blake said into the walkie, standing and sliding over the counter again. "I'm on my way." Blake tried to speak slowly so they could catch more words if the connection any better on the other end. "Tell Rick and Carl that I'm on my way." she hooked the walkie to her belt again, turning it off to conserve the battery. Blake started towards the front of the store but stopped short when she heard the front door open and footsteps on the dingy tiles.

Blake held up her machine gun, ready to get back to Carl no matter what. She walked slowly towards the front door, keeping her feet as quiet as possible, hoping whoever was in the store with her was unaware of her.

Blake had almost made it to the front of the store when she heard the hammer of a gun being pulled back behind her, and saw two men approaching.

Blake whipped around, aiming her gun at an older man, maybe in his early fifties.

"Well would y'lookie here!" he laughed to the other members of his group as the filed into the aisle and blocked both ends. "What's a pretty 'lil thing like you doing with that big gun there?" he drawled, mocking curiosity.

Blake slowly turned around in a circle, looking each man in the eye as they aimed their weapons at her. She paused at one man who seemed less eager than the others.

"You best not shoot that thing if that's what yer thinking missy." The same man continued talking. "By my count, you'll have six weapons firing at you as soon as you fire at any one of us. and we don't miss."

Blake knew the man was right, but she didn't lower her weapon. That would be giving in. That would be letting them win.

"What's in the pack sweetheart?" another man asked.

"None of your business." Blake growled back. She wasn't about to tell them about the others, although they probably already knew due to the walkie on her hip.

"Well that wasn't very polite." The first man-who was seeming more like the leader-said, stepping closer to Blake. "Respect your elders, girlie. Now, what's in the bag?"

"None of your damn business." I growled again.

"I see." The leader looked to one of his goons, who reached out and tried to grab Blake's arm. Blake swung around, knocking his hand aside with her gun and kicking him between the legs while he wasn't expecting it.

"Don't touch me!" Blake almost yelled, trying to seem as menacing as possible while she thought of a way out of this.

"Oh-ho-ho!" the leader laughed, holding up a hand for his other goons not to attempt the same thing. "We got a feisty one here! Oh she's gonna be a fun one." He grinned almost hungrily at Blake, who wasn't expecting an attack from behind.

One of the men grabbed the strap of her gun, yanking it out of her hands and knocking her off balance. Another man grabbed Blake, pressing a knife to her throat and leaning down close to her ear, shushing her as one would and infant while she struggled.

Blake squirmed, trying to pry the man's arm away while the other laughed. All but one. The one that wasn't laughing suddenly stepped forward, still seeming unsure.

"Claimed!" he said loud enough to be heard over the laughter. The laughing stopped, and the leader looked at the man with curiosity. The knife dropped form Blake's throat, but the grip remained tight around her chest.

"What are you claiming?" the leader asked, apparently not understanding.

"The gun, the bag, the radio, the blade," he took a breath, "and her."

The men looked around, as if trying to figure something out. The guy Blake kicked finally hauled himself off the ground, confronting the guy who had just 'claimed' Blake.

"You can't do that!" he complained. "Joe! Tell him he can't do that!"

"Yeah, that's not allowed!" another whined.

"Well why the hell not?" the guy who claimed Blake protested. "Rules are no lyin' and ya gotta claim what you want. I want her and everything she got with her." He didn't seem malicious. Blake felt like he might be the outsider of this group.

The leader held up a hand for everyone to stop talking. "He's right." The leader-who was apparently named Joe-admitted with a disappointed shrug. "That's how it works. How it's always worked with us." he turned to Blake and her current restraint. "Let go of her, Dan, she belongs to Daryl now."

* * *

 **Yay! Happy-ish ending!**

 **Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm baaack.**

 **I like this one, so I'm not going to say much here. But, I ill say that I bumped up the rating just to be safe, and will warn you that there will be non-con later in this story, but I won't describe it because I physically cannot do that.**

 **Anyway, I don't own TWD yadda yadda yadda.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"So I guess we know the range of these things now." Michonne commented, tossing the radio onto the bed.

"Guess so." Rick sighed, continuing to stare out the window.

"She's not going to be back until later." Michonne stood up, placing a hand on Rick's shoulder. "You can't stare out the window all day."

"I know…" Rick sighed again. "I'm a worrier." He smirked slightly as he turned around, quoting her words.

"Yes you are." Michonne smiled in agreement. "And you should focus some of that worrying on him." She nodded in the direction of a sleeping Carl.

"I'm trying to distract myself from worrying about him."

"Well, you shouldn't. She can take care of herself. He can't right now."

"But-"

"No." Michonne looked Rick sternly in the eye. "She's safer than him right now."

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Blake's wrists were tied in front of her with rope that was rubbing her skin raw. Daryl had taken her bag and slung it onto his own shoulder over the machine gun, and put the machete and the radio in the bag. He held his crossbow in one hand while firmly planting the other just above Blake's right elbow, making sure she didn't run.

Blake kept her head down slightly, staring at the ground ahead of her. The group of men was travelling in the opposite direction they needed to be, and had been at it for four hours. She hated every step that took her further away from her group, and her mind was racing a mile a minute trying to figure a way out of her current situation.

Blake noticed that Daryl stayed at the back of the group, behind the group actually. He was clearly the outsider, probably a new member. It was obvious to Blake that Daryl wasn't dangerous, not like the rest of them. It was almost as if he was protecting her from them. She wished he would just let her go.

Daryl looked down at the teenager in his grasp; she felt his eyes and looked up at him, a slightly angry expression on her face. He felt awful for taking her with him, probably scaring the shit out of her-although it didn't seem like it-but he knew that if he hadn't claimed her, the others would've done unspeakable things to her. He couldn't let that happen, she was just a kid for Christ's sake! Daryl hadn't been with these people long, but he could tell they were horrible. He was planning on leaving when they had picked up this girl's tracks and started following them.

Blake looked away from Daryl, continuing to form her escape plan as they followed the rest of the group up the middle of the road.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

At noon, Rick was worried that Blake hadn't contacted them.

"Maybe the batteries in her radio died." Michonne had said, trying to reassure her friend and cover up her own slight concern.

By three, Carl had woken up and asked how far she was. Neither had an answer.

By sunset, Rick was pacing the floor, Michonne was staring at the radio, and Carl was sitting at the end of the bed, leaning against the wrought iron footboard and staring out the window.

"Where the hell is she?" Rick asked no one in particular.

"Something happened." Carl wiped sweat off of his head and shivered, pulling the blanket around his shoulders closer to his body in an attempt to get warm. "She wouldn't abandon us."

"I know." Rick sighed, continuing to pace. He hadn't been implying that Blake would run off on her own.

"Should I go after her?" Michonne suggested.

"Not now, not in the dark." Rick responded, wanting nothing more than to go after her himself. But he knew that would be dangerous and irresponsible. "If she's not back by sunset tomorrow I will."

"She just got held up somewhere." Carl slurred, exhaustion getting the better of him. "She'll be back tomorrow."

Rick stopped pacing for a moment to look out the window, taking in the darkening landscape before him, a thick blanket of guilt settling over his heart. "I hope so."

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Blake dozed in and out of a light sleep, trying to rest. She knew escape wasn't possible now, the group had a rotating watch shift so she couldn't get up and walk away. Plus, Daryl and attached the rope that bound her to his own wrist, rendering her unable to go more than four feet from him.

After a few hours, Blake fell into a restless, exhaustion induced sleep, but woke to rough fabric being forced into her mouth. Confused and disoriented, Blake couldn't respond to her surroundings until the man began to drag her away from the camp, but before she could think about struggling, he pressed a gun to her head. Blake complied, knowing he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger, and stood up without a sound, the rope attaching her to Daryl having already been cut.

The man had a vice grip around the teen's arm, she could feel the bruise forming already. He also kept the gun on her head, so she kept quiet as he led her into the woods.

After about three minutes of walking, they came upon a small clearing. The man holstered his gun and abruptly shoved Blake to the ground, pinning her beneath him before she could fight back. She screamed through the gag, but the sound barely made it past her lips due to the thick rag. She could hear a belt buckle being undone and an icicle of fear ran through her spine, making her squirm under the man's weight.

The man leaned down, shushing her gently, which made her feel like her stomach was being twisted in knots. She had never felt this kind of fear before.

Suddenly, her face was sprayed with something warm and sticky. It took Blake a moment to realise that it was blood and the man had fallen to the side, off of her. Blake quickly rolled out from under her attacker, ripping the rag out of her mouth and throwing it aside, breathing hard. She looked up to see Daryl standing above the body, pulling his arrow out of the man's head. He then quickly pulled out his knife and sliced her bonds, freeing her hands.

Blake stared up at Daryl, shocked. He had just saved her from what would have been the worst experience of her life. Blake didn't know this man, but she jumped up, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

Daryl wasn't expecting the girl to launch herself, at him, and awkwardly hugged her back with one arm for a few seconds before she released her grip. Daryl handed the teen her gun and machete, which she quickly slid into its holster keeping the gun in her hands.

"This way." She mouthed, leading Daryl in the direction of home.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

The two ran until the sun came up, zigzagging through the trees to confuse Joe and the others if they tried to follow. When the first sign of light hit, Blake stumbled to her knees, breathless. Daryl fell down right beside her, breathing hard.

"Thank you." Blake choked out, realising she hadn't said that yet.

Daryl waved it off, literally. He waved his hand, unable to speak.

The two laid on the forest floor for a few minutes until they could breathe properly and feel their legs again.

"Come on." Blake got to her feet. "I need to get back to my people."

"Which way?" Daryl asked, slightly disoriented form their midnight, zigzagging run.

Blake peered up at the rising sun to orient herself and started off, Daryl falling into step beside her.

"What's your name?" Daryl asked, realising he didn't know it.

"Blake." She answered, knowing she could trust this man.

"What're the pills for?" Daryl had seen the content of the bag when he had taken it.

"My friend is sick. He got shot and the wound is infected. I should have been back yesterday."

"Sorry 'bout that. Woulda left sooner if I could."

"It's not your fault." The two fell into a comfortable silence, neither knowing what to say. But there was a question poking the back of Blake's brain.

"Why did you protect me?" She asked. "You don't even know me."

"I know someone who has a kid your age." Daryl shrugged, thinking about Rick and Carl. "Saw you and thought about them. What Rick woulda felt like if it was-"

"Wait." Blake interrupted, looking up at Daryl. "Rick Grimes?"

Daryl nodded and a smile found its way onto Blake's lips.

"I'm with Rick, Carl and Michonne." Blake explained, speeding up a bit, now wanting to get back that much faster. "Were you at the prison with them?"

"Yeah." Daryl was amazed. Some of his people were alive! "Didn't know if anyone else made it out."

"They said the same thing."

"Wait." Daryl remembered. "You said someone as shot. Who?"

Blake's smile melted. "Carl."

"Shit, again?"

"Again?" Blake asked.

"Few years back, in the beginning of all this, some idiot got him in a huntin' accident."

"I didn't know that…"

Blake trailed off as the sound of walkers approaching filled the air. She groaned, sliding the strap of her machine gun over her shoulder and pulling out her machete, ready to take down whatever came out of the shadows.

* * *

 **Yay Daryl's finally here!**

 **Please review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Finally!**

 **Second semester just started, so I didn't really have time to write, sorry. I should be able to crank out a few more chapters before classes get super busy though.**

 **As always, I don't own The Walking Dead.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"So how'd you end up with them?" Daryl asked. The two had been walking in silence for a few hours, and Daryl had decided to strike up a conversation.

"Well…" Blake thought about how much of her past she wanted to reveal to Daryl. She trusted him, especially now that she knew he was with Rick's group, but she didn't feel like completely spilling her guts to the man. "I was alone. Ran into their camp, quite literally."

"How long were ya by yourself?" Daryl figured the girl could take care of herself, especially since Rick had allowed her out on her own, but surviving without anyone to watch your back was a difficult task for anyone.

"A while. Lost my family a few months in."

"Sorry to hear."

"Thanks." Blake could tell the apology was genuine, it was obvious that Daryl had lost people he cared about too.

"So did ya know Rick and Carl before?"

"Yeah." Blake looked up at Daryl, her eyebrows furrowed. "How'd you know?"

"You're smart." That was obvious considering the teen had survived on her own for as long as she did. "Anybody that didn't know Rick woulda run in the other direction."

"He _is_ pretty scary looking." Blake thought about the bushy beard that was sprouting form the man's face and the slightly deranged look in his eyes that she had glimpsed when she first ran across them. "Yeah Carl and I knew each other for a while before the outbreak."

"Lucky you found someone you know."

"Yeah." Blake looked down at her toes, a smile playing on her lips. "Guess I am."

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Rick sat on the edge of Carl's bed, staring down at his pale son. He hadn't felt like this since… well, since the last time he was shot. But when Otis had shot him, there was at least a qualified surgeon around-even if the surgeon was a veterinarian. This time, they had Blake. A girl who learned from trial and error. She was smart, and she had gotten the job done, and he was grateful, but he couldn't help but whish Hershel was with them. That thought brought a whole new wave of guilt that rolled over Rick as the memories of that horrible day resurfaced. Rick fought to return his thoughts to the present day, his son, Blake and Michonne.

Michonne had stepped out to take care of a few walkers that had wandered onto the street. They hadn't noticed the survivors inside, but the woman was antsy and needed to diminish her stress. Unfortunately, hacking walkers' heads off didn't help as much as she'd hoped.

Rick glanced out the window, seeing the samurai take down the last of four walkers with one swift slice through the temple. It was about an hour until sunset, and Rick had already prepared a bag to go after Blake if she wasn't Back by noon the next day. He was scared for both teens at this point. Carl hadn't woken up at all since the previous evening, and Blake hadn't contacted them since two nights ago. The girl could be dead-or worse-and they might never know.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

"Shit." Blake sighed, tossing the radio back in the bag before slinging it over her shoulder. "Batteries are dead."

"How much further we got?" Daryl drawled, peering up at the sunlight that was filtering through the mostly-bare tree branches.

"About three hours."

"We got about a half hour till sunset."

"I know. There's no point in stopping when we can make it tonight." Blake was adamant about reaching the house that night. "You good with running the rest?"

"Sure." As soon as the word left Daryl's lips, Blake was off. She shot through the trees like a bullet, pill bottles rattling in her bag. Daryl struggled to keep up at times, but always knew where the girl was due to the noise and trail she made.

The pair ran until sunset, reaching the edge of the school yard just as the sky began to change color. Blake slowed and stopped when she knew they were close, halting just behind the tree line. Daryl came up behind her about thirty second later, doubling over panting when he realised she stopped.

"How the hell… can you… run like… that?" he choked out between huffs.

"Practice." Blake said, her breathing rate barely above normal. "We're clear." She announced after surveying the area.

The teen started off in the direction of her house, Daryl reluctantly following, not quite having caught his breath yet. When the duo reached the road, the door to the house swung open, causing Daryl to aim his crossbow at the man running down the street, but lowered it when he realised it was only Rick.

As soon as he reached them, Rick grabbed Blake's shoulder's and looked into her eyes, a mix of concern, anger and relief showing through the herd exterior he was trying to put on. "Where the hell were you?" he almost shouted, shaking the teen. "What happened?"

"Long story." Blake shrugged Rick's hands off of her shoulders. "I'll explain later. Oh, and I found Daryl."

Rick looked confused for a moment, then looked to his left and realised Daryl was there. He had been so fixated on Blake that he had failed to notice the archer.

"You're here…" Rick seemed confused by Daryl's presence. "Is anyone else…?" he trailed off, not wanting or needing to finish the sentence.

"Don't know." Daryl looked solemn as he answered Rick's question.

"I hate to be rude, but can we move this reunion inside?" Blake interrupted, heading towards the house. The two men fell into step behind her.

The trio entered the house to see Michonne sitting on the stairs with her katana balanced on her knees.

"What happened?" Daryl asked, referring to the boot Michonne was still wearing.

"Long story." She answered, smirking at the man.

Blake passed the samurai as she stood, dashing up the stairs and into Carl's room. The trio of adults followed quickly behind. Blake dumped the contents of her backpack on the floor, fifty pill bottles spilling at everyone's feet. "I didn't know what to get so I grabbed it all." She explained, grabbing the closest bottle and reading the label. The others dropped to the ground and started reading labels, tossing bottles aside one by one.

Most of the medication was meant for viral infections; stomach bugs, colds, pneumonia, nothing they needed at the present time, but kept just in case. Michonne ran across a container labelled Cephalexin.

"This one." She announced, tossing the bottle to Blake, who was the closest to Carl. After a quick skim of the label, it was clear that Michonne had chosen the correct medication; the pills were used to treat infection caused by bacteria, and the attached prescription was written for one Gary Manford, who had an infected cut.

"Perfect." She got up, reading the dosage and grabbing the screwdriver from her bag and the cup off of the bedside table that Rick had been using to give Carl water. Blake dropped three tablets into the glass, using the handle of the screwdriver to crush them before adding a small amount of water and dissolving the pills completely. Out of the corner of her eye, Blake saw Carl stirring. "You'd better wake up or this is going to be more than difficult." She said, willing her friend to open his eyes as she sat on the edge of his bed. "Come on Carl." She brushed the wet strands of hair off of his sweaty forehead, noticing the drastic fever. "Open your eyes." Suddenly, Rick was on the other side of the bed, lightly shaking his son's shoulder and softly calling his name.

After a few moments, Carl's eyes fluttered open. He stared at Blake, but obviously wasn't seeing her. After another minute realisation crossed his face, then a small smirk made its way onto his lips. "Hey cheater."

"Hey loser." She teased back. "Drink this."

Rick helped Carl prop himself up before Blake held the glass to his lips, allowing him to drink the mixture that would-hopefully-aid in his recovery. Once the liquid was gone, Blake grabbed the water bottle from the nightstand and continued to give Carl small sips of water. He needed to stay hydrated in order for his body to absorb the antibiotics.

"What happened?" Rick asked as Blake put the water bottle back on the table and helped a semi-conscious Carl lower himself back onto the bed. "We were up all night waiting for you." It was obvious that both Rick and Michonne had pulled an all-nighter, and had probably gotten no sleep the night prior either. They had bags under their eyes and seemed to be working at about half speed.

"Go get some sleep then." Blake suggested. She herself had spent the night and day walking and running, but she felt alert. "It's a long story, and you two could pass for walkers right now. I'll tell you later." Seeing Rick's worried expression, Blake smiled warmly at the man. "I'll stay with him. It'll take a while for the meds to kick in, so there's nothing you can do here anyway."

"Come on." Michonne set a hand on Rick's shoulder. "She's right."

"Fine." Rick sighed. "Call me if anything changes."

"Of course."

* * *

 **Please review! I love reading the feedback!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Uuurrggghhhhh I'm mad at myself. I should've gotten this out wwaayyy before today but life is hectic. Apologies.**

 **Anyway, DID YOU GUYS SEE THE PREMIER?! HOLY CRAP! BEST EPISODE EVER!**

 **Okay, got that out of my system, but seriously, PM me if you ever want to talk TWD, because I need to discuss this episode with someone who isn't my psychology teacher!**

 **Okay enough of this useless ranting, I don't own The Walking dead, we already know this.**

 **On with the show!**

* * *

Daryl walked into the room where Blake was, carrying a chair with him. "Hey." He said softly. Blake's head whipped around, her hand resting on her machete. Once she noticed it was Daryl, the teen relaxed, turning her body to face the man and releasing the handle of the blade.

"Hey." Her voice was quiet and lacked the confidence Daryl had noticed earlier.

"Brought ya a chair…" He said awkwardly, bringing the chair closer to her. As he set it down, Daryl noticed that Blake's eyes were slightly red and glossy, shining in the dark room. "You okay?" he asked, already knowing the answer he would get.

"Yeah." The smile was forced as Blake resisted sniffling. "Thanks for the chair." She got off the edge of the single bed and moved the chair close to the head of the bed, sitting down facing Carl.

"No problem." Daryl left the room. He knew that Blake needed time to herself, she was just a kid.

Blake sat staring at Carl, hoping that the medicine would work. It would. It had to.

What had happened when she was on the supply run was beginning to catch up to her. Out there, she hadn't had time to feel it, but now, she had nothing to do but feel it. For the first time in a long time, Blake remembered what it felt like to be afraid. Luckily, she hadn't let any tears fall before Daryl had come into the room. Now, she let herself feel it. For the first time in as long as she could remember, Blake cried.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

She didn't remember falling asleep, but evidently she did, considering she woke up some time later, her head resting on the edge of the bed. Blake pushed herself off the bed, rubbing at her eyes to try and wake up. Her eyes felt damp, and tear stains were visible on the edge of the bedspread where her head had been.

Blake was embarrassed of the damp spots, and was grateful that nobody else had seen them. She listened to the quiet of the house, he ears automatically picking up on four sets of breathing that didn't belong to her. She could tell everyone was asleep besides her, and reminisced in the calm of the building.

The teen looked out the window at the dark sky. The sun would begin to rise within the hour, so Blake still had some time to herself before Rick would demand answers to what had happened. Hopefully, Daryl could take care of those questions for her.

As Blake sat watching Carl's chest rise and fall, she didn't notice the tears pooling in her eyes. She didn't notice until she felt the rebel tear slide down her cheek. Furious with herself, she swatted at the tears, rubbing her eyes dry. Blake crossed her arms defiantly, refusing to let her emotions get the better of her. It was just so hard not to give in when nobody was around to see it.

Luckily, Carl began to stir just as Blake began to feel the lump forming in her throat.

He groggily opened his eyes, peering through the darkness and finding Blake's face. "Hey." He said, his voice was a bit stronger than it was the last time he was conscious.

"Hey." Blake swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled at Carl, placing a hand on his forehead to check his fever. The temperature was still way above normal, but it seemed to be slightly lower. "How're you feeling?"

"Honestly, a bit better." Carl's statement was truthful.

"Thank god." Blake breathed, reaching for the pill bottle. "They aren't expired."

"I guess not." Carl propped himself up on one elbow, facing Blake.

"…Every four to five hours…" She mumbled to herself, reading the directions on the label. "It's well past time for another dose." She decided, opening the bottle and crushing three tablets in the cup again.

"Why dissolve them?" Carl asked, curious as to whether there was a method to Blake's madness, which, there usually was.

"They absorb into your system faster." She explained as she added water to the pill dust and swirled the cup around. "Your body doesn't have to do as much of the work and can focus on fighting the infection.

"Where'd you learn that?"

"My dad was a nurse remember? I always used to try and read his textbooks."

"Oh, right." Carl smiled slightly, taking the cup from Blake and swallowing the bitter mixture. "You always used to brag about how you knew what to do if someone broke their arm."

"Among other things." Blake smirked back, placing the cup back on the night stand. "I managed to modify the 'removing foreign objects' surgery didn't I?"

"That you did." Carl shook his head. "What kind of kid read medical textbooks to pass the time?" He wondered aloud, a minor insult to Blake abnormal intelligence.

"The kind that are too smart for normal schoolwork." Blake threw back.

"True." Carl sighed. "Did you ever have homework?"

"Nope." Blake shook her head. "Never studied either."

"Yet you got perfect on every single test."

"Apparently."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"Well it's not like they ever taught us anything important in school." Blake thought out loud, realising her straight A's would do nothing for her future. "They didn't teach us anything about survival."

"Well no one could have predicted this." Carl pointed out, drawing his eyebrows together.

"I know, but they didn't teach us any life skills in general. Why does anyone need to know that water is made of two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen? Why is that a useful thing to know?"

"No clue." Carl realised Blake's point. "But, we did only reach sixth grade before this went down."

"True." Blake had to grin at that. Carl had a way of melting Blake's fear and sadness, if only for a moment. "Very true."

Even in his barely awake state, Carl noticed that the smile didn't reach Blake's eyes. "What wrong?" he asked. He already knew something had happened while she was gone-she had been away for twice as long as she'd said-but exactly what he had no clue.

Blake was taken aback by the question, she hadn't expected Carl to be able to see her well enough in the dark. "I ran into another group out there…" she began, not really knowing what to say. "Daryl was with them."

"Daryl's alive?" Carl interrupted. He hadn't seen him last night. He hadn't seen much of anything last night in his semi-conscious state.

"Yeah he's alive. He's here." Blake confirmed before moving along with the story. "So I ran into this group of men. They were… messed up. Creeps." A shiver ran down Blake's spine as she thought about her experience with the group. "They… took me with them. In the night, one of them took me away from camp." Blake breathed, not knowing how to explain what the man had tried to do, so she didn't. "Daryl followed and killed the guy before he could try anything."

Understanding crossed Carl's face as he realised what Blake had almost been through. He could see her eyes beginning to brim with tears she was obviously trying to hold back.

"Blake…" He whispered, not really knowing what to say. No words could comfort her, and he knew it, so Carl just reached out and took Blake's hand in his own.

"Thank you." She whispered back, holding Carl's strong hand in hers. She could trust Carl. She would always trust Carl.

* * *

 **Awweehhh how cute. Please review!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Writing in class instead of doing math is much more enjoyable ;)**

 **Don't really have a rant today, so I'll just tell you for the seventeenth time that I don't own the show or any of its characters.**

 **Enjoy!**

Two weeks later Carl's infection had cleared up and he was up and walking around. His leg still spiked with pain when he put pressure on it, but it was bearable, especially because he could wear jeans that weren't cut up now. He was getting frustrated with everyone though, nobody let him go anywhere by himself.

"Just in case you fall." Was a phrase he'd heard at least a hundred times in the past three days, including the time that Blake had said it about four seconds ago.

 _'_ _I'm perfectly capable of yelling if I fall_ ' he thought to himself as Blake walked slowly next to him up the stairs. Blake saw the face Carl was making, and was able to read him like a book.

"I know what you're thinking." She teased. "The point is that if you do fall, we want to be there to catch you."

"But I won't fa-" Blake's hand was gripping Carl's arm before he even realised his knee was giving out. He regained his footing and kept his gaze down, glad his hat covered his flushed face. "Thanks." He mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

"No problem." Blake smirked, supressing a giggle. Carl had been so adamant about telling Blake he wouldn't fall that he had missed a step. "Falling on a flat floor isn't a big deal. Falling down the stairs is."

"Yeah." Carl sighed, making his way up the last few steps without a hitch, Blake's hand in his. Neither had asked the other, they both just knew they were together. That night when Blake had come back with the medicine, the two had realised how much trust they placed in each other and how much they cared for one another. As Carl limped down the hall towards the bedroom he'd been staying in, he thought about how long he'd had feelings for Blake, and how scared he had been to admit them to her before the apocalypse happened. In a way, the dead walking had been a positive thing. It had caused both of them to overcome fears. If they could watch a dead person amble towards them without flinching, they could admit to themselves that they had feelings for each other.

Rick watched the ordeal form the living room where he and Michonne sat. They had a clear view of the stair case and both nearly jumped off the couch when Carl had missed the step, but when they realised Blake had already steadied him, both adults relaxed back into the furniture.

All three of the adults were happy to see Carl and Blake together, they _were_ a perfect match. And it wasn't a case of "hey, the world ended, we might as well be together," Rick had seen the chemistry between the two before the dead stopped dying. He had always expected the kids to get together.

"They're so cute." Michonne smiled. She never would have guessed that she would be able to see young love flourish again, but she never thought she'd see a baby again either. This world was full of surprises. Michonne was nearly giddy the first time she had seen Blake and Carl holding hands, she was so happy for them.

"Yes they are." Rick shook his head and smiled. For once, he was living in the present, not thinking about the future.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

"We have to go." Daryl came rushing down the hall towards Blake and Carl who were settled on the couch in the back room.

"What's wrong?" Blake asked, immediately on her feet.

"Joe and the others, they're setting up camp in the school." Daryl explained quickly. "Where's your dad?" He asked Carl. All three adults had gone out to do a final sweep of the houses in close proximity.

"Not back yet, Michonne is upstairs though."

"I'll get Rick." Blake decided, practically out the door already.

"You sure?" Carl asked, grabbing her arm and locking eyes with her.

"Yes." Blake nodded, feeling fairly confident. For once, talking about what happened had made Blake feel better. "I'm the only one that can fit through the gaps in the fences." She joked slightly.

"Okay." Daryl grunted, he was concerned for the girl as well, but he could tell she could do this on her own. Besides, she was fully capable of shouting.

Blake slipped out the backdoor, closing it as quietly as possible. The sun was just beginning to touch the horizon, sending streaks of purple, pink and orange through the sky. The beauty of the sunset felt out of place in the harsh world they lived in.

The teen jogged up to the fence between her house and the neighbor's-she couldn't remember their names for the life of her-and pushed on the loose boards, pushing one free of the frame almost immediately. Blake slid through the gap easily, he slight frame making it easy to step through the hole.

Looking through the back window of the house, Blake could tell that Rick wasn't inside. The front door would be open if he was.

The next fence was chain link, which Blake easily climbed up and hopped over, landing gracefully on the other side. As she approached the back window, Blake caught a glimpse of Rick through the dust. 'Thank god' she thought to herself.

Blake ran up to the window before Rick could leave whatever room he was in, and knocked on it lightly to catch his attention. The older man jumped at the noise, raising his gun, but noticed it was Blake at the window and relaxed. He headed for the side of the house and exited, meeting Blake in the backyard.

"What's wrong?" He asked quietly, seeing Blake press a finger to her lips. He followed as she proceeded to jump the fence again.

"The group Daryl was with is setting up camp in the school." Blake explained in a voice barely above a whisper. "We need to leave. There are too many of them for us to take on."

Rick just nodded, following Blake through the fence gap with a bit of difficulty. The pair slipped in the back door of their house, sliding the locks into place behind them.

"Carl?" Rick called softly, seeing he wasn't on the couch anymore.

"Kitchen." Carl's voice came back through the house.

Rick headed towards the kitchen while Blake ran upstairs. They could hear Michonne and Daryl rushing around, probably packing essentials.

Blake ran past Michonne in the hallway, sliding into her room and grabbing her backpack and throwing it on the bed. She rummaged through the minimal contents, finding a full water bottle, a can of peaches, the flathead screwdriver she had grown so fond of, an extra hoodie and a box and a half of rounds for her machine gun. Blake ditched the burgundy hoodie she had on in exchange for a thicker sweater, the days were getting cold and the nights colder. She also grabbed a heavy sweater out of the laundry basket for Carl.

Blake threw the bag over her shoulder, bounding down the stairs to the kitchen, passing Rick on the stairs.

"Here." She said when she entered the kitchen to see Carl collecting food. He took the sweater, pulling it on a zipping it up before returning to packing cans in bags. Blake took her bag off of her shoulder and started loading some more cans and water bottles into it. The view of the school form out the kitchen window was obstructed by trees, but Blake could make out figures dressed in dark clothing walking around the school. She kept one eye on the window, making sure none of the men approached the house.

A gunshot startled both of the teens, causing them to drop to the floor, chests heaving. Blake motioned for Carl to stay down and slowly got to her feet, opening the window just enough to let the voices float in. They listened as all three adults came running down the stairs, ducking below the windows to keep hidden from the outside.

"What happened?" Rick asked, eyes wide with concern.

"Walker snuck up on one of them." Blake zipped up her bag and threw it over her shoulder. "We need to leave before they find out we're here."

"She's right." Daryl agreed as Michonne helped Carl off the ground and Rick kept watch out the window. "If they find out we're here…" his gaze passed over Blake who was staring at her feet. "We should go through the creek, won't leave prints if we walk in the water."

"Let's go." Rick decided, grabbing a bag off the counter and leading the rest of the group out the back door.

"Wait! One second." Blake ran up the stairs while everyone got situated with their packs. She went to the end of the hall, standing outside of the room for a moment before taking a deep breath and entering the only room she had refused to go in since they had ended up in this house about a month ago: Tegan's room.

No one had been inside this room since the government cleared everyone out. Now, Blake stepped in, taking in the purple walls, princess bedspread, the puppy calendars she refused to change for four years, and the item she was looking for: the pointe shoe necklace Blake had gotten Tegan when she was eight. Tegan had always wanted to be a professional ballerina, and began dance lessons at age three. The necklace was a recital gift from Blake when her studio had put on the nutcracker and she was a mouse. Tegan wore the necklace everywhere. She barely took it off. It was right where she had left it at night, on top of her jewellery box.

Blake grabbed the necklace, slipping the chain over her head and hiding the charm under her sweater before running back down the stairs, fighting tears as she went.

 _'_ _Tegan.'_ She thought as she followed the group out of the house and towards the creek _. 'I'm so sorry.'_

 **I actually have that necklace...**

 **Please review!**


	18. Chapter 18

**All I really have to say here is here's the next chapter, so here's the next chapter!**

 **After seventeen chapters, do I really need a disclaimer anymore?**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

The creek was cold, but having wet feet was preferable to leaving a trail for the other group to follow. The current was weak and the water only up to the top of his boots, but Carl had a bit of difficulty moving properly through the creek due to his injured leg. Blake had wrapped her arm around his waist, holding him upright for the duration of their walk through the water.

The air was cold as the sun set, and the only sound that reached the group's ears was the splashing of their feet in the creek and their visible clouds of breath. None of them could feel their toes and the cold water seeped into their boots, soaking their socks.

After about an hour, Daryl decided they were far enough away from the house and could walk through the trees. Hopefully they would find a house or car to hole up in overnight, they had left Blake's neighborhood behind by about forty five minutes, and there were no houses within their immediate vision.

Rick followed closely behind Daryl-who seemed to know exactly where he was going. Blake and Carl walked hand in hand behind Rick; both holding their blades at the ready. The fact that Blake used her left hand for machete kills was helpful, the two could hold hands and not fumble for weapons if a walker came out of nowhere, as they sometimes did. Michonne took up the rear, katana poised for any type of threat that may have shown up.

The snap of a crossbow string and the thump of an arrow making impact with flesh rang out, causing everyone to prepare for a fight with the dead, but no snarls or footsteps were audible, suggesting that there was only one walker in the immediate vicinity. Daryl retrieved his arrow, wiping it on the walker's shirt before sending it back to its place on the underside of the crossbow.

The group moved on, walking for about fifteen minutes before finding a road.

"Do we set up camp or keep moving?" Michonne asked. "How much distance do we want between us and them?"

"As much as possible." Daryl drawled, scanning the area for walkers and people alike.

"We'll keep going for a bit," rick said, looking to Carl who nodded, saying he was okay to keep going, "we'll make a concrete plan tomorrow."

When the group started moving again, Blake spoke up. "When I was out here, I picked up a radio signal. It said something about a community." Rick turned to face her, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Why did you wait to tell us?" he asked, not angrily, just curiously.

"We were safe for the time being." She shrugged. "Plus, it was playing on a loop, so the place could easily have been gone months ago."

"Or it could be a trap." Michonne added.

"That too." Blake agreed.

"We'll discuss it." It was clear that Rick was ending the conversation, so they dropped it, continuing on in silence.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

A good two and a half hours after dark, the group came upon a traffic snarl, four cars in the middle of the road, all seemingly abandoned. Carl had begun to lean on Blake again about twenty minutes prior to the car jam, so the group decided stopping for the night would be their best bet.

While the adults checked the cars, Blake and Carl leaned against the hood of a dark blue Chevy pickup, watching the woods. They hadn't run into any walkers since the one Daryl had taken down hours earlier.

Blake's feet were still wet from the chilling water, but she ignored that, thinking about how preferable cold feet were to being in such close proximity to Joe's group. She absentmindedly pulled the pointe shoe charm out from under her sweater and began moving it back and forth on the chain. She'd never worn a necklace before, but the wide chain felt surprisingly comfortable around her neck.

"What's that?" Carl asked, referring to Blake's new accessory.

"Oh, uh…" Blake tucked the charm back beneath her shirt, pressing it into her chest lightly. "I got it for Tegan when she was younger. She wore it everywhere…" Blake trailed off, slightly embarrassed.

"It's nice." Carl smiled slightly. "I nearly got myself and Michonne killed for a picture of my mom…" Carl's smile turned sad as he thought of how ridiculous but necessary that mission had been. "I get why you needed a reminder."

"Thanks." Blake turned back to the woods. The fact that they hadn't run into any walkers for this long meant that they were either insanely lucky, or the walkers were currently distracted and a herd of them could show up any minute.

Rick, Daryl and Michonne searched the cars quickly, not finding much in the way of supplies. There were two pickup trucks, both completely empty, a jeep that had a dull hunting knife in the glove compartment, and a station waggon with a twenty pack of AA batteries that hadn't been opened tucked under one of the seats. The knife was pretty much useless considering the layer of rust that coasted one side, but batteries were always needed.

"Carl, Blake." Rick called to the kids, who slipped through a gap in the cars and met the rest of their group in the uneven square the vehicles created. Daryl was working on starting a fire to fight the chilling air while Rick and Michonne looked to Blake. "What exactly did this broadcast say?" Rick asked.

He wanted to talk about this right now? He said they'd make a plan tomorrow. Blake sighed, trying to recall what the voice had said. "It wasn't a good signal, but it was something along the lines of a sanctuary for survivors, where the train tracks converge."

"Where are the train tracks closest to us right now?" Michonne stepped in.

"Should be a few miles west." Blake answered slowly, trying to figure out their approximate location.

"You think we should go?" Carl asked, sounding as skeptical as Blake felt.

"I don't know." Rick answered, seeming at a genuine crossroads.

"We should check it out." Daryl piped up as his flame caught. "We can watch, listen. Could be good, could be bad, could be gone."

"If it's bad?" Rick raised an eyebrow, slightly confused at Daryl's almost optimism.

"We leave before they see us."

There was silence for a moment as everyone considered.

"I think we should do it." Carl said hesitantly. "We don't exactly have any big plans going right now, so why not?"

"I agree." Blake piped up. "All we're really doing right now is wandering in the dark, so why not wander towards what could be a safe haven?"

Rick looked to Daryl who nodded, and then to Michonne who took a breath before giving a single bob of her head.

"Alright." Rick sighed. "We'll head out in the morning."

* * *

 **So we're getting back on track with the TV show a bit. I really don't like fanfictions that are exactly like the show with an OC just planted in the middle of it, but there are some big scenes in this timeline that I really liked and am going to use. But hardly any of it ill be exact.**

 **Anyway, please review!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Too tired to write an authors not, so we'll make this short and sweet: I don't own TWD and enjoy.**

* * *

Blake lay awake in the truck bed where she and Carl were. The near encounter with Joe's group and the suspicious lack of walkers caused her restlessness; her mind was too alert and wouldn't allow her eyes to close. Blake had been laying there for what she estimated to be nearly two hours, her back pressed into Carl's chest, his arms wrapped around her waist. The warmth of Carl's body against hers was soothing, but Blake knew she wouldn't be sleeping at all that night.

When she heard Rick slide off the roof of the station waggon to wake Michonne for next watch, Blake gently moved Carl's arm off of her and sat up, grabbing her gun and sliding to the back of the truck bed just as Rick reached the ground.

"You okay?" He asked, standing by the small fire that Daryl had made.

"Yeah." Blake stayed on the end of the truck bed, knowing where she was going be for the next few hours. "Couldn't sleep. I'll take watch for now, let Michonne sleep."

"You sure?" Rick asked, Blake and Carl hadn't been scheduled for watch shifts, mostly because it would be light in just over four hours now.

"Yeah." Blake nodded. "I'll wake Michonne or Daryl when I'm tired."

"Okay." Rick could tell Blake was wide awake. She could be trusted with watching their camp.

Blake turned back around and stood up, walking lightly across the truck and climbing to the roof of the cab, barely causing the vehicle to shake. She heard Rick crawl into the truck, settling in near Carl. Within ten minutes, his breathing had evened out and it was obvious that the man had fallen asleep.

Blake sat cross legged on top of the truck, her gun balanced on her lap. The night was silent accept for her friends' breathing and the quiet crackle of the fire, so anything or anyone that approached camp would be heard easily by the girl's sharp ears. When you spend long enough in the woods by yourself, you learn to listen.

After a few hours of staring down the dark, empty road, a distant snarl caught Blake's attention. She quickly turned to the left, where she had heard the noise come from and listened. There were no footsteps to accompany the attempted vocalisation, so the group was safe unless the wind picked up.

Blake continued to stare through the darkness, listening to the walker's snarls fade before disappearing all together.

Just as the sun was about to rise, Blake heard a sigh from behind her. She turned around to see Carl sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Hey loser." Blake nearly whispered, knowing the others could use as much sleep as they could get.

Carl's head snapped around, he hadn't been expecting Blake's voice. "Hey cheater." He smiled. "How long have you been up?"

Blake shrugged as Carl climbed onto the roof of the truck with her, wincing as he pulled his injured leg up after him. "Couldn't sleep last night." She explained. "When your dad got up to change watch I took Michonne's shift."

"You okay?" Carl asked, taking Blake's hand in his.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Just… them being so close, you know?"

Carl turned to completely face Blake, taking her other hand and making her completely face him. "Hey." He said when Blake wouldn't meet his eyes. When she looked up, Carl could see a slight hint of fear in Blake's eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you." Blake looked down at their hands again. "I won't." Carl insisted, causing Blake to look up again. "I promise."

"Thank you." Blake whispered, releasing Carl's hands and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Carl pulled Blake closer to him, running a hand through her hair as she buried her face in his neck, silently letting a few tears fall.

Carl held Blake until a snarl startled both teens. Blake's head snapped up and she immediately spotted the walker ambling out of the wood. "I got it." Blake slid down the windshield onto the hood of the truck and hopped down, drawing her machete as the walker approached her. She slashed her blade through its head, silencing the dead man.

Blake knelt to wipe the blood off of her weapon, discreetly wiping her eyes as she put it back in its holster. As she stood up, Blake realised that the sun was rising. They would be moving out soon. Blake circled around to the other truck where Michonne, Daryl and the bags were. She grabbed her pack, pulling it out of the truck bed as quietly as possible, but still waking Daryl as she did so.

"Y'okay?" He drawled sleepily, sitting up to estimate the time.

"Yep." Blake was tired of everyone asking her that. "We should probably head out soon." She suggested.

Daryl grunted in agreement. It was becoming increasingly clear that Daryl was a man a few words. "Michonne." He said, waking the samurai immediately.

Michonne looked around for a moment, orienting herself. "Rick didn't wake me for watch." She said under her breath, slipping her sword over her shoulder.

"Me neither." Daryl grunted, grabbing a water bottle out of his bag.

"I was up all night." Blake said curtly, turning to walk away. "Couldn't sleep, figured I'd be productive."

"You okay?" Michonne asked.

"I'm fine!" Blake shot back with more force than she intended. "I'm fine." She mumbled, shaking her head.

Michonne looked at Daryl, confused at Blake's sudden outburst. Daryl just shook his head, watching as Blake headed towards Rick and Carl. They had never told Rick or Michonne what had happened to Blake when they had crossed paths with Joe and the others. Daryl could tell that Carl knew, and he wasn't surprised. The two teens seemed to be closer than Carl and Michonne, which was nearly impossible.

"Which vehicle are we taking?" Blake asked Rick, taking her bag off her shoulder and unzipping it, pulling the screwdriver out.

"This truck." Rick referred to the pickup he and Carl has slept in.

"Okay." Blake opened the driver's side door and climbed in, getting to work on hotwiring the truck.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Rick drove the truck with Carl next to him, Blake in the passenger side and Daryl and Michonne riding in the bed. They were driving west down the same road they'd camped on, hoping to find the train tracks and in turn, this supposed sanctuary.

Almost immediately after Blake had gotten the car started and everyone had settled in, she could feel her eyelids getting heavy. Staying up all night, while unavoidable, was not a good idea. Without noticing, the teen had drifted into a deeper sleep than she'd experienced in a long time, feeling safe in Carl's arms.

They had been holding hands when Blake's eyes had begun to close. Carl had wrapped an arm around her shoulders, letting her rest her head on his shoulder as they drove down the road. She needed sleep, and he was more than happy to let Blake use him as a pillow.

Michonne sat leaning against the back window of the truck, wondering about Blake's previous outburst. Daryl seemed to know what was happening with the teen, but she was completely in the dark. Michonne knew that she wouldn't be Blake's first choice for 'therapist,' but it shocked her slightly that Daryl knew more.

Daryl stared at the road as it passed, thoughts bouncing back and forth between the radio broadcast Blake had heard and Beth. He couldn't save her. Maybe she ended up where they were headed. Wherever they were headed, it could be a sanctuary, or it could be a trap.

After a few miles, Rick spotted a hunting supplies store a bit down the road. He knocked on the back window, getting Daryl and Michonne's attention. They looked over the top of the truck and saw what Rick was seeing. Michonne waited until Rick looked in the rear-view mirror to nod their agreement about going into the store. Daryl could use new arrows, and they could always use knives, hatchets, whatever they could find.

Rick pulled up in front of the store and opened his door, looking to Carl and Blake, who was still sleeping like a stone.

"Let her be." Carl said, pulling out his gun. "She clearly needs it. I'll stay here, yell if there's trouble."

Rick debated for a moment, long enough for Daryl and Michonne to knock on the front window of the store and attract four walkers to the glass.

"Fine." He sighed reluctantly. "We won't be long."

"We'll be fine." Carl assured as Rick walked towards the store, entering in front of Michonne and Daryl.

"We'll be fine." Carl repeated to himself, planting a kiss on the top of Blake's head. Carl watched as each walker in the front window went down, blood splattering across the glass. He could see flashlights skimming around the dark store, but he didn't hear anything other than Blake's and his own breathing.

Carl wasn't really paying attention to the time as he rested his head on Blake's and caught a glimpse of movement in the side mirror. Before he knew what was happening, Carl was pulled out of the driver's side door and thrown on the ground, a spike of pain running though his injured leg. For a moment, he was dazed, but then he realised someone had rolled him onto his stomach and was tying his wrists together. And before he could yell, a rag was forced into his mouth and tape placed over it.

Blake was ripped from her peaceful sleep when she was thrown roughly to the ground. Similarly to Carl, he had her wrists tied together and a gag forced into her mouth before she could make a sound. Once the man kneeling on her shoulder was done with her restraints, he turned her over.

"Well look who we found. Remember me, girlie?"

* * *

 **Please review!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Sorry for the long wait, I don't even know what kept me from writing, but it's probably not a viable excuse, so I won't make one.**

 **Anyone who cares can see the first nineteen chapters for a disclaimer.**

 **Enjoy!**

Rick dropped three silencers into his bag along with four various boxes of ammunition.

"Any luck?" He heard Michonne's voice from behind him.

"Got a couple of boxes of rounds, and three silencers." Rick replied as he closed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "All stuck under the counter. You?"

"Water filters and arrows for Daryl."

"Good. Where is Daryl?"

As if on cue, Daryl's deep voice echoed through the warehouse like store. "Rick!" he called, warehouse like store. "Rick!" he called, his voice urgent. "RICK!"

"Daryl?" Rick called back, running towards the front of the store with Michonne on his heels. The archer came into view, standing in the doorway, his crossbow poised, aimed at nothing. "What happened?"

"They're gone." Daryl said, lowing his crossbow in defeat.

"What?" Michonne demanded, pushing past Daryl to see into the truck.

"No." Rick could see from inside the store that the truck was empty. "No no no no no no no." he heard his gun clatter against the hard wood floor and rubbed his hands through his hair, grabbing on a pulling a few strand free. "No! No! NO!"

"Rick!" he barely heard Michonne's voice as the samurai pulled Rick's hands out of his hair. "RICK!"

Rick snapped out of his shock, realising he was laying on the floor. He let Michonne help him to his feet and followed her out of the store towards Daryl, who held a piece of paper and Carl's hat in his hands.

"Wat is it?" Michonne asked.

Daryl sighed and handed the note to Rick, who absently took it, reading the simple words before it floated out of his hands. He reached out for the hat, cradling it against his chest.

Michonne scooped it up off the ground, reading it before looking quizzically at Daryl. "Finders keepers?" She asked, confused. She hadn't heard that phrase since before the apocalypse.

Daryl nodded, recognizing the taunt for what it was. "Joe has them."

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Blake tried to control her breathing as she buried her face in Carl's shirt, willing herself to wake up. Having a panic attack now would not be good.

Carl stared at the roof, listening to Blake's hyperventilating and wishing they were anywhere else but in the trunk of a car. Not six hours ago, Carl had promised Blake that he would protect her, that nothing would happen to her. He hated himself for not being able to keep that promise. If he'd been watching, these assholes wouldn't have been able to sneak up on them. If he'd been quicker to realise what was happening, he could've called for his dad and Michonne. He was just… too slow.

Blake knew what the men were capable of, and she would sooner die than let anything happen to Carl. The problem was, Carl would sooner die than let anything happen to Blake.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

"They cut the damn gas line." Daryl huffed, pissed to no end. "We gotta run."

"Then let's go." Rick growled and grabbed a fistful of the hat that used to be his, not letting that piece of his son get away. Rick and Michonne took off running, following Daryl as he ran down the road, the tire tracks in the slightly soft road leading their way.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

After an incredibly long and bumpy ride in the dark trunk of the car, the vehicle came to a stop, causing Blake and Carl to be pressed even closer together than they already were. The two listened as the engine stopped rumbling and seven doors opened and closed. Both prisoners tensed as they heard footsteps approaching the back of the car, and the trunk flew open. Carl was facing away from the men outside, towards Blake who had been thrown in first, but he heard the hammer of a gun being pulled back.

"Try anything and your girlfriend gets it." Joe almost teased as he grabbed Carl's arm and yanked him out of the car, the teen struggled to get his feet under him as pain spiked through his leg. Carl didn't resist as a different man took hold of his bicep, knowing there was no way he could fight off all of these men, even if he wasn't restrained.

Carl's heart broke as Blake was pulled out of the trunk, her eyes red and face streaked with tears. He could tell she was trying to put on a brave face, but it wasn't working.

The two locked eyes as the group started walking into the woods. Leaving the vehicles made little sense to the teens, but they really didn't have a say in the matter, so they just let themselves be dragged through the woods, a gun pressed to Blake's head the whole time.

Carl's legs were slightly numb from the long, cramped ride in the truck, and he stumbled and nearly fell multiple times before the group reached a small clearing and decided to set up camp.

The kids were moved to opposite sides of the clearing and had their feet bound so they couldn't run off, not that either of them would leave without the other.

Carl and Blake locked eyes, never looking away in order to ground themselves. The only time their stare was broken was when one of the men would walk between them, but every time they managed to get right back to each other's eyes, reassuring each other that they would be okay. They had to be okay.

 _'_ _Dad, Michonne and Daryl will figure something out.'_ Carl thought as he held Blake's gaze. She needed him now more than she had ever needed anything her life, and Carl was determined to be there for her. ' _They_ will _figure something out. Please. Let them figure something out.'_

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Rick, Michonne and Daryl breathed hard as day turned into night and they didn't catch up with the group who had taken the kids. They kept running despite their numb legs, aching chests, and the sweat pouring down their faces. Their adrenaline was fueled by thoughts of what Blake and Carl could be going through as they were running down the road, chasing the ghosts of cars that had driven down this very stretch hours ago.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Blake kept her eyes on Carl as the man approached him. Her eyes widened as he reached down, cut the rope restraining his ankles and roughly pulled him to his feet. Blake knew what was coming, and began screaming through her gag, trying to remove the attention from Carl.

"Hold up, Dan." Joe noticed Blake's struggling and went over to her, ripping the duct tape off of her face and yanking the rag out of her mouth, snickering the whole time. The teens never broke their gaze. "You have something to say sweetheart?"

Carl knew what Blake was doing and, despite the fear and dread in the pit of his stomach, he shook his head, willing Blake not to do what she was about to do.

There were tears in Blake's eyes as she answered Joe's question. "You don't want him, you want me." She tried to keep her voice as stable as possible. "I'm the reason your friend is dead. He had nothing to do with it. Take me, leave him alone."

Joe chuckled, looking between the teens as Carl violently shook his head. "What do you say, Dan? It's your choice."

The man holding Carl smirked as he thought, a smirk that turned into a smile as he pushed the boy away and approached the girl. "I'll break her in." He sneered as Joe chuckled. Carl lost his balance and crashed back to the ground, another member of the group immediately retying his legs before her could get away. Carl ignored the man who was replacing his bonds and yelled through the gag, pleading with words that weren't heard by anyone but himself.

"It's okay." Blake mouthed, her fear filled eyes never leaving his as Dan dragged her away.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Carl was paralysed with fear as he waited for what seemed to be an eternity for Blake to come back. They had to be gone for at least a half hour as the teen sat slumped against a tree, helpless and useless. His promise to Blake broke even more with every second that passed.

Finally, the creep dragged Blake back into the clearing. Her face was blank, and wet with tears as he pushed her back against the tree and retied her feet before placing a fresh strip of duct tape across her lip, blocking her from Carl's view the whole time her was in front of her.

When the man stood up and walked away, leaving Blake and Carl in full view of each other, she wouldn't meet his eyes.

 **Please review!**


	21. Chapter 21

**It's been too long. Oh well, at least I got it done.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Pain.

Loathing.

Shame.

Hatred.

Emptiness.

Those emptions weighed heavily on Blake's heart as she leaned against the tree, allowing he loose hair to fall in front of her face and shield her from Carl's eyes. She couldn't look at him. She felt like he was judging her, even though she was sure he wasn't. She was too ashamed of what she'd had to do-what she'd _asked_ that filthy son of a bitch to do-in order to save Carl from these feelings. She thought she would have gone through anything a hundred times to keep Carl from feeling the pain, but now… she wasn't so sure.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Pain.

Guilt.

Uselessness.

Sadness.

Rage.

Carl experienced each of these feelings as he stared at Blake. More than anything, he wanted her to look at him. He wanted to see her beautiful face, convey that everything would be okay with even the quickest of glances. But she stayed still, her blonde locks falling just so he couldn't see her chocolate eyes.

"Anyone else have 'business' to attend to before we move on?" Joe asked with a smirk on his face. The sun had risen and the camp was being packed up.

"Why not?" Another man who had been relatively quiet said, untying Blake's feet and hauling her to her feet. She shied away, staring at her boots, but didn't resist as the man led her away from the clearing. The lack of fight in Blake caused Carl's heart to break for the hundredth time as he watched her passively go with the man. Carl knew that Blake was being cooperative in an attempt to save him from the pain she was experiencing, but he couldn't stand that. She shouldn't have to go through this for him. He hated himself because of it.

A moment later, Joe was at Carl's feet, untying them. Carl stared at him, eyes wide as his stomach began to twist in fear. Once the knot was undone, Joe grabbed Carl's arm and yanked him to his feet. "Come on, boy." Joe's tongue ran over his teeth in a menacing manner, making Carl shiver as he anticipated what was about to happen to him.

Carl could feel every inch of the rag in his mouth as his throat ran dry, and was grateful when Joe turned to him, peeled the tape off of his mouth and pulled the rag out, allowing the teen to breathe slightly easier. "Let her hear you scream." Joe drawled in a disgustingly amused voice as he led Carl out of the clearing and into the woods, in the opposite direction Blake had been taken.

Carl limped along side Joe, trying to figure a way out of his current situation. If he killed Joe, he could get around the clearing where the others were set up and rescue Blake. The only problem was, he didn't exactly have a weapon, or the use of his hands.

Once the two had walked for what Joe thought was a reasonable amount of time, he threw an unsuspecting Carl to the ground. The boy grunted in pain, refusing to yell like Joe expected.

 _'_ _How the hell am I going to get out of this?'_ Carl thought as a foot collided with his ribcage, rolling him onto his back. Again, he refused to make any noise.

Carl tried to sit up, but Joe was on top of him, pinning the teen to the ground before he had a chance to move. The man leaned down, hands on either side of Carl's head and whispered, "What the hell are you gonna do now sport?"

Before he even knew what he was doing, Carl forced himself off the ground, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of Joe's neck. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he tore a chunk from Joe's throat and the man made a gurgling sound as he fell forward, pinning Carl underneath him. The teen spat out as much of the pervert's blood as he could with more crimson still raining down on him.

"Carl!" he heard.

"Dad!" Carl had never been more relieved in his life. Joe's body was pulled off of him and his bonds were quickly cut, allowing the boy to wipe some of the blood off of his face.

Rick pulled his son into a tight embrace, not caring that he was covered in blood. Wait, he was covered in blood. "Are you okay?" Rick exclaimed, looking his son over.

"I'm fine." Suddenly, Carl remembered that he hadn't been the only prisoner. "Blake."

"Where is she?" Daryl asked quickly, knowing what could have happened.

"That way." Carl pointed. "On the other side of the clearing."

Daryl was gone before Carl had finished speaking, jogging through the trees, avoiding the voices that floated through the air.

When he came upon the scene, Daryl nearly dropped his crossbow. There was blood everywhere, and the body of the man was unrecognizable due to the multiple stab wounds. Daryl stared for a moment before movement caught his eye. He did drop his crossbow-just in time too-as Blake came running at him with what looked to be a miniature dagger.

Daryl caught the girl's wrists to keep her from stabbing him. "Blake." He said, looking into her eyes. Her oh so deranged eyes. "Blake!" She tried to twist out of his grip, clearly in an attempt to kill him. "Blake it's me! It's Daryl."

Blake continued to stare at the man before her for a moment, but realisation crossed her face and the deranged look melted from her eyes, leaving them empty and cold. Blake yanked her arms out of Daryl's tight hold, shoving the blade back into her boot and facing the man with a blank face

"Where are the others." She asked, no emotion in her voice.

"Taking care of the rest." He answered quietly. Suddenly, gunfire rang out and voices echoed through the trees. Daryl turned in the direction of the clearing, scooping up his crossbow and standing ready. Blake grabbed a pistol from the dead man's belt and matched Daryl's stance, ready to take down anyone who may have fled the scene.

Uneven footsteps sounded after the gunfire ceased, and both Daryl and Blake knew it was Carl coming through the trees.

"Blake?" When Carl appeared, Blake was shocked. He was covered in blood; his hair was matted, his face covered, his blue sweater had turned purple in the shoulders, his teeth were even stained crimson.

Carl was equally shocked with Blake's appearance. Her sweater and jeans had been dyed deeper shades of black, her hands were completely red, and the left side of her face had trails of red running down it.

"It's not mine." Blake assured in a flat tone when she was Carl's eyes on the blood on her face. The sticky liquid had splattered into her hairline, making it look as if she herself was bleeding, but she wasn't. "Let's go." With those two words, Blake disappeared through the trees, heading towards the camp. She wanted her gun back.

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	22. Chapter 22

**Sorry for the super long wait!**

 **And apologies for the length of the chapter... It's a bit short...**

 **This one is mostly filler, next chapter will be more exciting.**

 **Anyways, enjoy!**

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As the group walked down the road, Rick kept Carl close, making sure his blood covered son was beside him at all times. Michonne walked right behind them, her posture rigid. Daryl hung back, a few feet in front of Blake.

Everyone kept glancing back at Blake, as if they were making sure she was still there. She wasn't going to leave, she just didn't feel like talking to anyone right now. Her clothes clung to her skin, the drying blood bonding fabric and flesh like glue. She wanted nothing more than a hot shower; an impossible luxury in the world they lived in.

Blake's thoughts kept returning to the clearing. She had managed to get her hands free during the night and grabbed the dagger from her boot while her attacker had been… preparing. She stabbed him forty two times. She counted.

Blake's skin crawled and itched as her mind insisted on replaying the events that had unfolded in such a short period of time. She began fiddling with Tegan's necklace, sliding it back and forth across the chain to keep her hands busy. Unfortunately, the motion didn't occupy he mind.

Once again, Daryl glance back at Blake, this time seeing her fiddling with the charm on her necklace. He slowed down until he was walking next to the girl, who seemed lost in thought.

"Your sister's?" he asked in a low voice.

Blake started before nodding, her shoulders tensing slightly. She kept her gaze down, unable to look at the man beside her. She knew Daryl wasn't going to hurt her, but her brain was running a mile a minute, unable to sort her thoughts properly.

"My brother died too." Daryl wasn't really sure why he was about to tell Blake this story; the words just seemed to roll off of his tongue like when he had told Carl about his mother. "Carl tell ya 'bout The Governor?"

Blake nodded again, slightly intrigued with Daryl's sudden willingness to talk.

"Well that prick killed Merle." Daryl tried-unsuccessfully-to keep the anger out of his voice as he spoke. "Shot 'im in the heart, not the head. I found him later, chowin' down on one of The Governor's 'soldiers'. Had to kill him."

Blake's shoulders had relaxed slightly as her brain finally caught up with the fact that Daryl was safe to be around.

"You had to kill your sister, din'cha?"

Another nod.

"I know it's not gon' do much, but I'm sorry." Daryl was never good with words, but he wanted Blake to know that she was part of the family now, and that she could talk to any of them any time. Even Daryl.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Blake leaned against a tree on the edge of the woods, staring at the fire in the middle of the tracks. The group had reached the railroad an hour before sundown. Luckily, there had been a map to their destination at the intersection of track and road. They headed south along the tracks to the place they now knew as Terminus before setting up camp for the night.

Carl was propped up against a tree a few feet away from Blake, his eyes closed. Rick and Michonne were sleeping on the ground and Daryl was watching the woods. Blake rolled up her hoodie sleeves despite the cold and began subconsciously scratching her arms.

After thoroughly surveying the opposite side of the tracks, Daryl glanced in the direction of the kids, making sure they were okay and noticed Blake was frantically scratching her arms. He got up and slowly walked towards the girl, knowing she was in a fragile state of mind. "Blake." He said gently, kneeling down a few feet away form Blake. The scratching immediately stopped and Blake's head snapped up, her left hand immediately going for her machete. Daryl saw a bit of fresh blood on her forearms and under her nails.

Recognizing that is was just Daryl, Blake brought her hand away from the blade at her hip and followed his concerned gaze to her own forearms. She was surprised at the blood and claw marks on her skin, and more surprised by the sting that followed.

"Can I do anything?" Daryl asked, knowing 'are you okay?' was not a question he could ask in this situation.

Blake shook her head firmly, biting her lip as she rolled her sleeves back down.

"You sure?"

Blake nodded again, looking away from Daryl this time, embarrassed. She kept looking at the ground until the man before her got up and headed back towards the fire.

Once she was alone again, Blake could feel eyes on the top of her head, and looked up to see Carl gazing over at her with a guilty expression on his face. Blake immediately turned away, unable to look at him. Instead, she chose to stare into the woods across the tracks. She could feel Carl's eyes on her the whole night.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

When the cries for help echoed through the trees, everyone stopped and listened. The man was close, probably within fifty yards, but no one moved toward the sound. They all just listened as the screaming got louder and then stopped, watching the trees for stray walkers. Blake kept her gun trained on the treeline, finger hovering over the trigger.

"We're close." Rick stated flatly once the silence returned. "We should keep moving. Might get there before sundown tomorrow."

With that, everyone fell into step, continuing their hike along the tracks.

Blake sighed, thinking about the man who had just died so close to them.

 _'_ _Lucky him.'_

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	23. Chapter 23

**So.**

 **This chapter is mostly copied and pasted from the season four finale... sorry**

 **Since it's so similar to the original, I decided to get it done all I one go, so it's a pretty long one.**

 **I did do this completely from memory (I've seen the episode wwaayyy too man times), so it's probably not exact, but still, I don't own any of the words spoken by cannon characters accept for the ones I made up.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Standing at the fence and staring into Terminus, everyone felt skeptical. There was nobody to be seen, nothing to be heard, the place seemed deserted. The only thing that alluded to the fact that anyone might live behind the plain brick wall was the lack of walkers.

It was Rick's voice that boke the eerie silence. "We all spread out, watch for a while, see what we see, and get ready. We all stay close." Once everyone began to dispatch, Rick's voice rang out again, softer this time. "You wanna stick with me?" He asked Carl, who shrugged off the question.

"It's alright." He muttered, walking towards Michonne.

Blake was slowly walking along the fence, straining her ears for any tiny sound that would hint towards life, when she heard Michonne's voice up ahead.

"…I was gone for a long time. But then Andrea brought me back. Your dad brought me back. You did." As she quietly got closer, Blake could see Michonne and Carl, facing each other. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but you can come back from this. You need to let us help you."

"He told me the other day that he was proud of me. That I was a good man." Carl's voice was quiet, and Blake could tell he was holding back tears. "I'm not."

"Carl."

"I _bit a man's throat out_ , Michonne." Blake remembered passing through the clearing and seeing Joe's lifeless body, the flesh under his chin removed in a jagged, uneven pattern. "I couldn't stop them from… I couldn't protect Blake. I'm not a good man. I'm just another monster too."

Blake turned away as Michonne embraced Carl, she suddenly felt as though she was intruding. When she turned, she saw Daryl standing a few feet away. She walked past him, leaving the redneck to stare after her and wonder when he started caring about her so much.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Blake hopped down from the fence, landing silently as her feet connected with the pavement and ignoring the hand Carl offered her as she stood up. Once everyone was on the inside of the fence, they all headed towards a plain steel door.

"Sanctuary for all, community for all." a woman's voice echoed through the door as the group prepared to enter. "Those who arrive, survive. Terminus, sanctuary for all, community for all. Those who a-"

"Hello." Rick's voice stopped the background chatter and the woman who was speaking into a microphone. "Hello." He said again as everyone stared at the group. Blake and Carl were still covered in blood-although they had gotten it off of their faces-and the rest just looked horrible, so the surprised and slightly disgusted stares were quite appropriate.

"I bet Albert is on perimeter watch." A man stepped forward with a sigh, throwing his pencil down on the table. "You here to rob us?" He asked as though he didn't really believe that was possible.

"No." Rick answered simply. Everyone had a tight grip on their weapons, ready to fire at a moment's notice. "We wanted to see you before you saw us."

"Makes sense." The same man smiled and cleared his throat. "We usually do this where the tracks meet, but, welcome to Terminus." He gestured around at the boring, sweatshop looking warehouse. "I'm Gareth. It looks like you've been on the road for a good bit."

"We have." Rick confirmed with a nod. "I'm Rick. That's Carl, Blake, Daryl, Michonne."

An awkward silence ensued after the introductions and Gareth smiled again. It was a fake smile, a fake smile that caused Blake to place her finger on the trigger rather than resting it on the side of her gun.

"You're nervous, I get it!" he almost chuckled. "We were all the same way. We came here for sanctuary, is that what you're here for?"

"Yes."

"Good, you've found it. Hey Alex." Another man came jogging up behind Gareth. His smile was more genuine. "We got nothing to hide, but the welcome waggon is a whole lot nicer. Alex will take you, ask you a few questions, but first, we're gonna need to see everyone's weapons. If you could just lay them down in front of you."

Everyone glanced to Rick, who hesitated before nodding, slowly crouching to place his Colt Python on the ground in front of him. "Alright." Everyone followed Rick's lead, however reluctantly.

"I'm sure you understand."

"We do."

Blake sighed as she let her gun and machete go, and decided to keep the dagger in her boot hidden. Just in case.

Gareth walked towards Rick while Alex headed for Daryl. While they patted the men down, Blake began to panic. She didn't want anyone touching her.

"I'd hate to see the other guy." Alex commented, glancing at the blood on Blake and Carl's shirts.

"You would." Rick agreed.

 _'_ _He didn't check Michonne.'_ Blake's mind was speeding. _'_ _Please skip me. Please please please please!'_ Much to her relief, Alex did skip over Blake and moved directly onto Carl, who tensed, but didn't lash out as Blake would have.

"They deserve it?" Alex asked.

"Yes." Carl's voice could have frozen boiling water.

Gareth finished Rick's incredibly thorough search, and bent to pick up his gun, handing it back. Alex Grabbed Carl's gun, giving it back to him as well. Daryl and Blake both scooped up their weapons on their own, but Michonne waited for while Alex handed her sword back.

"Just so you know, we aren't those kinds of people," Gareth said, "but we're not stupid either. And you shouldn't be stupid enough to try anything stupid." Blake only paid half of her attention to the man before her as she re-sheathed her machete and decided on slinging her gun over one shoulder instead of across her back. "As long as we're clear on that, we shouldn't have any problems. Just solutions."

"Okay." Rick nodded.

"Follow me." Alex smiled as the group followed him out the door. "Kind of ironic that the smallest person has the biggest weapon, isn't it?" Alex asked, trying to joke but failing miserably. He laughed awkwardly while the others just stared at him. "Okay…"

There was silence until the group exited the dreary warehouse and emerged into the cold, afternoon air.

"So how long has this place been here?" Rick asked, not wanting to seem completely rude.

Alex was relieved to have something to talk about, and answered quickly. "Since almost the start." He said nodding to a passing woman. "When all the camps got overrun, people started finding this place. I think it was instinct, you know? Follow a path." Blake wasn't really listening as she took in the area. There were people milling about, seemingly bored or happy. A smell-a good smell for a change-caught her attention and she looked forward to see a barbeque area, her mouth instantly watering at the prospect of food. "Some folks were headed to the coast, others out west or up north, but they all wound up here."

The group stopped at the barbeque pit, greeted by a woman who looked to be in her fifties. "Hi." She smiled, flipping a slab of meat on the grill. "Heard you came in the back door, smart. You'll fit right in here." She had the same fake smile as Gareth.

"Hey, Mary, would you fix each of these new folks a plate for me?" Alex leaned against the table as Mary began scooping food onto paper plates.

"Why do you do it?" Michonne piped up as Alex took the plates from Mary and handed the first ones to Blake and Carl. Both were starving, but didn't immediately dig in. Something was off. This place wasn't that big, and there was no sign of farm animals anywhere. "Why do you let people in?"

"The more people become a part of us, we get stronger." Blake glanced over to Rick, who was looking around at a few of the residents, his eyes narrowed. "That's why we put up the signs, invite people in." Alex grabbed two more plates and handed one to Michonne before Rick stepped forward for the other one. "It's how we survive."

Alex barely got the sentence out before Rick smacked the plate out of his hands, grabbed his gun and reached into the other man's pocket. "Where the hell did you get this watch?" he growled.

Everyone else immediately dropped their plates, grabbing their guns and finding somewhere to aim them. Although she had no idea what was going on, Blake trained her weapon on a woman about forty feet away, who seemed to be avoiding the teen's eyes while still pointing her gun in Blake's direction. She probably didn't like the prospect of shooting a child.

"Where the hell did you get this watch?" Rick nearly shouted, keeping his gun pressed to Alex's temple.

"You want answers?" Alex asked, trying to his the fear in his voice. "You want anything else, you get 'em when you put the gun down."

"I see your man on the roof with the sniper rifle." Rick went back to growling. "How good is his aim? Where'd you get the watch? Where'd you get the watch?!" And back to shouting.

"Don't do anything!" Alex shouted, presumably to the sniper on the roof. "I have this! You just put it down. You put it down! You want to listen to me." Alex went back to talking to Rick. "There's a lot of us."

"Where. Did you get. The watch?"

 _'_ _Why the hell is he so fixated on this watch?_ ' Blake wondered as she continued to stare the woman down.

"I got it off of a dead one. Didn't think he'd need it." Alex really wasn't a good liar.

"What about the riot gear?" Blake wanted to turn to see what Rick was talking about, but she didn't break her gaze. "The poncho?"

"Got the riot gear off a dead cop." Gareth popped up out of nowhere. He was a better liar than Alex, but Blake saw right through him too. "Found the poncho on a clothesline."

"Gareth we can wait." Alex whimpered.

"Shut up Alex." Gareth was more annoyed than anything.

"You talk to me." Rick was getting pissed now.

"What's there left to say?" Gareth asked. "You don't trust us anymore."

"Gareth." Alex was clearly terrified.

"Shut up."

"Gareth, please."

"It's okay." He reassured. "It's okay. What do you want, Rick?"

"Where are our people?"

"You didn't answer the question."

A gunshot startled Blake, and was followed by many more. Blake immediately shot the woman she had been staring down, her brains painting the wall behind her.

Through the rain of bullets, Blake heard Rick yelling for Carl to get behind him and Daryl calling for her. She looked back and saw everyone beginning to run for cover. She followed, images blurring together as the gunfire echoed in her ears, making the ring painfully. All of the bullets hit the ground, not their intended targets.

 _'_ _Wow, these people have horrible aim._ ' Blake thought as they ran past a fenced off area. A fenced off area filled with bones.

As they passed large red shipping containers, voices begging for help echoed through the metal. _'_ _What the…'_ Blake tried not to dwell on it as they passed through multiple rooms, one filled with candles and names drawn in chalk.

"These people." Michonne huffed as the group stopped in the room for a moment to catch their breath. "I don't think they're trying to kill us."

"No." Rick confirmed. "They were aiming at our feet."

They started running again, leaving the candle room and entering back into the gunfire. Daryl led the way, and stopped when they cornered themselves, surrounded by snipers on the roof tops and in the woods. The group desperately aimed their guns around, but knew they were hopelessly outnumbered.

"Drop your weapons, now!" Gareth's voice rang out from the rooftop, and when he didn't get an immediate response, he shouted louder. "NOW!" The group reluctantly threw their blades and guns to the ground, knowing they would all be dead before they could even make a dent in the Terminus residents. "Ringleader," Rick looked pissed off at the nickname, "go to your left. The train car. Go." When Rick didn't move, Gareth brought out the threats. "Do what we say and the kids live. Anything else, they die, and you end up in there anyway." Rick looked to Carl, then Blake, then hesitantly began walking towards the train car. "Now the archer." Daryl nodded to Blake as if to say everything would be okay before following Rick. "Now the samurai." Michonne was nearly snarling as she followed the men, leaving the teens feeling very small in the wide open space, a dozen guns trained on them. "Stand at the door, ringleader, archer samurai, in that order."

"My son!" Rick shouted, quickly followed by Daryl.

"My daughter!" The word was foreign to him, but it felt strangely natural as it rolled off of his tongue.

 _'_ _Daughter?'_ Blake thought, continuing to stare at the ground. _'_ _I wonder if that will help the situation.'_

Gareth completely ignored the shouts, and continued dishing out orders. "Ringleader, open the door and go in."

"We'll go in with them."

"Don't make us kill them now."

Rick huffed, but climbed the five steps before yanking the door open and entering the car, followed by Daryl and Michonne. A man that had been around the corner of the car quickly jogged up to the door and pulled it closed, locking it before the prisoners could fight back.

Blake and Carl both began to panic as they heard the shouts of protest and fists banging on metal from inside of the car. Blake could feel Carl's eyes on her, but kept her gaze down, still unable to look at him.

The teens stood there for what seemed like an eternity, listening to Rick, Daryl and Michonne as they pounded on the walls of the train car and shouted for the kids to be returned.

"Now." Gareth suddenly materialised in front of Carl, and Blake's head snapped up. "What are we going to do with you two?"

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 **Uh-oh.**

 **Please review!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Oh dear, it's been much too long...**

 **So, I won't keep you in the author's note for long.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Gareth shifted his gaze from Carl to Blake, tilting his head in what could have been curiosity.

"What _are_ we going to do with you two?" He said again, taking a few steps toward Blake, standing right between the two teenagers.

"Leave her alone." Carl growled, knowing that was all he could do without getting himself or Blake shot.

Garth turned back to face Carl, meeting the kid's scowl with a smirk. "Or what?" he asked, acting incredulous.

"I'll kill you." Carl said simply, his voice dripping with icy confidence.

"Oh will you now?" Gareth laughed at the threat. It was funny considering it came from a fourteen year old boy who couldn't weigh a hundred pounds. "We'll just see about that."

After another moment of tense silence, Gareth spun on his heel and began walking in the opposite direction of the train car he had made the others go to. "Follow me." He said simply. "And remember," Blake and Carl began walking after Gareth, prompted by the unknown men who had materialized behind them, "either of you try anything and the other dies."

Blake heard the hammer of a gun behind pulled back, and didn't have to turn to know it was level with the back of her head. The kids followed Gareth through the compound for a good five minutes before he stopped before a storage container, climbing up the stairs and yanking the door open.

"Ladies first." Gareth smirked at Blake as he came back down the stairs and watched as she went up, entering the dark metal box without a complaint. "And now the gentleman."

Carl glared at Gareth as he climbed the stairs, the door slamming shut as soon as he was inside. "Well shit." He announced to the quiet air. Blake was walking the perimeter of the car, searching for weak spots or alternate exits, but there didn't seem to be any.

"Blake." Carl's voice was gentle but firm as he addressed the girl. She stopped walking, showing Carl that she was listening. "You don't have to talk." Carl's voice was instantly softer once he got Blake's attention. "Just look at me. Please."

Blake wanted to. She truly wanted to see Carl's eyes again, but she physically could not bring her own eyes to meet his. She shook her head gently, which Carl recognized as an 'I can't' gesture, not an 'I won't' gesture.

"Are you scared?" He asked. She knew he wasn't referring to the current situation, he was referring to life in general.

Blake thought for a moment before nodding her head.

"Of my dad?"

Blake shook her head. Rick was nothing to be scared of.

"Michonne?"

Another head shake, this one slightly more confident.

"Daryl?"

The same response came with absolutely no hesitation this time.

Carl took a breath before he asked his final question. "Are you afraid of me?" He asked, his voice quiet.

Blake momentarily froze form shock before she answered, actually answered. "I could never be afraid of you." Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and it cracked when she spoke considering it had been days since she'd uttered a single word.

"Then why can't you face me?" Carl's tone was almost pleading by this point.

Blake closed her eyes and took a breath. "You were there." Were the simple words that made Carl feel the tidal wave of guilt crash over him for the umpteenth time.

"Blake, I…"

"I'm not saying I blame you." Blake clarified, finding it easier to talk to Carl than to look in his direction. "I did it to myself."

"But I should've done something."

"You know we would both be dead now if you had."

"Still." Carl insisted. "I should have-"

"No." Blake interrupted, slight anger in her voice. "I made my choice. It happened, now it's done. That's it."

"Blake…"

"Just don't."

Carl backed off, recognizing that Blake was at the end of her tether, and would lash out if he pushed her more.

Once she realized that Carl was going to leave her alone, Blake went back to searching the walls of the train car for a way out, Carl beginning to search on the other side of their prison.

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

Rick paced around the train car, his mind running wild with the possibilities of what Carl and Blake could be going through as the adults were stuck in the train car.

"How'd you end up in here?" Glenn asked Michonne.

"Rick noticed that one of them had your watch." Michonne explained. "They overpowered us."

"Carl's here too?" Maggie jumped in. When Michonne nodded, Maggie allowed the slightest bit of hope to creep into her heart. "Daryl?" He looked over. "You said daughter." She stepped towards the redneck, her eyes wide and pleading. "Was that Beth?" Everyone knew Daryl didn't have a child, so it was a reasonable assumption on Maggie's part.

Daryl sighed, shaking his head and looking down at his boots. "No." he admitted sadly. When Maggie's face dropped, he quickly added in, "She's alive. Or, she was. Last time I saw her."

"You were with her? What happened? Where is she?" Maggie couldn't control the slew of questions that tumbled out of her mouth.

"We hot out together, were staying at a house." Daryl started, deciding against telling everyone they were staying in a funeral home. "Got drove out by walkers. I sent her ahead, when I caught up, she was gone, black car with a white cross driving away."

Maggie nodded, taking Glenn's hand for support.

"Who was it then?" Glenn asked, curious about who Daryl would be referring to as his daughter.

"Carl's old friend." Michonne replied for Daryl, knowing the man wasn't too keen on speaking for long periods of time. "We found her wandering the woods on her own. Daryl's quite fond of her." Michonne joked slightly, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

A loud bang startled the small group out of their conversation. The silent group across the car that most had forgotten about also looked up to see Rick had pounded his fists against the door of the train car again.

"Rick, it's not going anywhere." Glenn sighed, stepping towards the man he admired.

"I know." The voice was half angry half scared. "I just want them back."

"So do we." Daryl stepped forward, placing a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "So do we."

* * *

 **Please review!**


	25. Chapter 25

**End of this is pretty much a carbon copy of No Sanctuary, but with a few differences. So I don't own that.**

 **Enjoy!**

Blake scratched a fourth tally into the floor by her feet. She was making the days they had been in the car with her dagger, eternally grateful that she'd kept the weapon concealed. She would attack the residents of Terminus, but there was always more than one when they dropped off food and water, Carl didn't have a weapon, and both teens were too small to take on the men that were always at the door. They would be overpowered, and probably killed within seconds if they tried anything. So Blake kept the blade in her boot, except for the thirty seconds she would take to scratch a tally mark into the wood each day at sunrise.

Once the fresh line was complete, Blake slipped the dagger back into her boot and leaned back against the cold metal wall. Winter had definitely arrived, and even in a southern state, the air was cold and breath was visible all throughout the day in the train car.

Carl watched from the opposite corner of the train car as Blake put the dagger back in her boot and began absently scratching at her already scabbed over forearms.

"Blake." He said gently. She flinched and stopped scratching, surprised at Carl's voice as it brought her back to reality. The two hadn't spoken much since they had first been put into the car; since their initial conversation, the silence had only been broken when Carl warned Blake to stop scratching. He hated to make her talk, he knew he shouldn't and that her state of mind was extremely fragile given the current circumstances, but he had to ask. "Why do you do that?" It was a question that he had wanted an answer to since he'd first seen her do it. Daryl had stopped her that night, fearing she would hurt herself, and Carl has warned her every time she had started since.

"I want it off." She whispered.

"You want what off?" Carl pressed. If Blake wouldn't look at him, he at least wanted to hear her voice. He knew he was being selfish, but he wanted to help her. He could only do that if she told him what he could do.

"Him." Blake took a breath and Carl waited, recognizing the deep breath as a sign that she would continue after she gathered her thoughts. "I can still feel him… on me." Blake's voice was emotionless. "Everywhere he touched. It's like there's a ghost haunting me."

"Blake, he's dead." She didn't realise it, but Carl was almost comforted by her words. The second man hadn't gotten a chance to hurt her before she killed him. "He can't hurt you anymore. None of them can."

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out from the other side of the door. "Opposite sides of the car!" Gareth's voice called. That was strange, Gareth had never delivered the water and canned goods the pair received every morning. Both remained where they were, considering they were at opposite ends of their prison, and waited for the door to open.

The lock clicked and the door creaked as sunlight came flooding into the car, momentarily blinding both of the kids. Gareth stepped in, looking at each of his captives. Two men followed him in, each one standing in front of a teenager, guns hovering inches from their faces.

"Until now, you've been leverage." Gareth began. "The others do what we say, we don't hurt you. But I've realised something." A smile played on Gareth's lips, not completely formed. "You aren't worth the resources. On your feet!"

Blake and Carl both stood, fearing for each other's safety.

"Good. Now hands behind your back, Carl." Carl complied while the other man kept his gun trained on Blake. The man that was next to him pulled out a large zip tie and fastened it around the teen's wrists. The hard plastic cut into his skin and began to cut off his circulation has a gag was stuffed into his mouth and tied around his head.

"Alright." The smile was fully there now as Gareth saw the compliance. "Your turn Blake."

Blake turned around and forced her mind to shut down as the man grabbed her arm. She took deep breaths, reminding herself that this wasn't the guy. He wasn't going to do that to her. She pushed the horrible memories down and slammed her walls up as the gag was shoved into her mouth with too much force. She grounded herself by thinking of Carl and what would happen to him if she did anything.

"Good." Gareth turned and headed for the door. "Let's go for a walk."

Carl was led out first, the sun burning his corneas as he saw the natural light for the first time in four days. He had watched Blake's face turn pale and her body stiffen as the man had laid his hands on her, wanting more than anything to stop the unknown torture she was going through. But he knew that if he spoke out, disobeyed Gareth in any way, Blake would be dead in a second.

They walked through the compound for about three minutes before coming to a stop in front of one of many metal doors. As they entered, Carl was shocked. There were two plain, metal tables, one with an unusually pale dead body on it, three bins labeled 'burn', 'feed' and 'wash', and a long, silver trough with six people on their knees in front of it.

Two of those people were Rick and Daryl.

Carl was forced onto his knees next to Daryl, and Blake was placed next to him. Rick's eyes widened in relief and horror when he saw the kids. He didn't know what was about to happen, but he guessed it was death, and he wasn't completely confident they were getting out of this one unscathed.

Rick locked eyes with Carl, giving him a firm nod that he hoped was comforting. It probably wasn't.

Daryl tried to make eye contact with Blake, but she just continued to stare at the bottom of the trough, blocking out reality as best she could.

Gareth was whispering with an unfamiliar man wearing a plastic apron and carrying a baseball bat, but no one could hear what either of them were saying as the sound of an electric saw buzzed to life across the room. Blake glanced over to see a man-who was also clad in a plastic apron-cutting the leg off of the dead body on the table in the corner of the room.

Apparently Blake had zoned out for a few minutes, entranced by the body across the room being mutilated, because Gareth suddenly reached out and grabbed Carl by the back of his neck, holding a knife less than an inch from his eye, and Blake had no idea why.

"What was in the bag, Rick?" Gareth asked. Blake knew he was talking about the bag Rick had buried in the woods before they had climbed the fence. It seemed like Gareth was asking the question again, threatening Carl to get an answer out of Rick.

"There's guns in it." Rick said immediately. Carl breathed heavily and stared at the tip of the knife that would probably cut his eyelashes if he blinked. "AK forty seven, forty four magnum, automatic weapons. Night scope. There's a compound bow and a machete with a red… red handle. That's what I'm gonna use to kill you." He nearly growled the last sentence.

"Thanks." Gareth released Carl and slid the knife back in its sheath before standing. "You know, we weren't going to kill you guys first. We just realised that the kids weren't worth the trouble we would have to go through to get them where we need them to be, and without them alive, you two would be real troublemakers." Gareth sneered. "So I decided that it would be best to do this now instead of holding off." Gareth stood in front of Carl and Blake, looking down at the kids. "You two are just so tiny, we're barely going to get anything from you as it is."

"Back to public face in two hours." Gareth looked to the man with the bat, and a man who had walked in, unnoticed, while Gareth was talking to Rick. This one held a very large machete.

Gareth left the room and Blake peered over to the men with the weapons, who were standing at the other end of the trough. She silently cursed, wishing they were closer so she wouldn't have to run across the room. Blake tried to keep the rest of her body as still as possible as she moved the fingers of her left hand towards the top of her boot. Just as her fingers closed around the hilt of her dagger, there was a loud crack, and the platinum blonde haired man at the end of the trough slumped forward, only to be pulled up by his hair and have his throat slit.

Bake's eyes widened along with the rest of the people kneeling on the ground. She quickly pulled the blade from her boot and tried to orient it so she could slice through the zip tie around her wrists, but her fingers were numb from poor circulation and her hands were not cooperating.

Another crack and spurt of blood sounded as Blake finally got her blade in the right place. As she began sawing at the plastic, the next man went down. She broke through the zip tie just as the final stranger's blood painted the shiny trough. Rick was next.

Just as Blake jumped to her feet, ready to lunge at the man with the bat, the ground shook and an ear shattering explosion ripped through the air.

 **Please Review!**


	26. Chapter 26

**Sorry these updates have been slow, I'm in the midst of midterms and kind of need to do school work.**

 **I hope the next chapter come sooner, but I shouldn't promise anything.**

 **Enjoy!**

Blake fell back to the ground, recovering quickly when she saw Rick stabbing the man she was about to attack with what looked to be a chunk of wood. Blake quickly slit the machete man's throat before pulling out her gag and kneeling down to cut Daryl and Carl's bonds. Carl had fallen down on his side while Daryl had nearly ended up in the blood filled trough because of the violent tremors. Rick quickly ran across the room, taking out he man who was cutting up the body on the table before he was able to process what was happening.

"You guys okay?" Daryl asked the teens as he helped Carl to his feet.

"Yeah." Carl breathed, slightly shaken from the events that had just unfolded. Blake just nodded at Daryl.

"Come on!" Rick called from a doorway across the room. Daryl grabbed the baseball bat and threw it to Rick while Carl picked up the machete and they all headed for the door. Once through, Daryl grabbed a stray piece of pipe from the ground. Rick placed a hand on Carl's shoulder, looking him in the eye with a silent apology. Carl nodded back, showing he was okay.

The group weaved through the room, dodging the hanging torsos and wondering what the hell these people were.

"If we run into any of these people, kill them." Rick said. "Don't hesitate. They won't."

Carl followed Rick with Blake right behind and Daryl bringing up the rear. They left the room of torsos and emerged into what looked to be the backside of the compound, near the fence. Flames were visible above the tops of the buildings.

Rick jogged along the brick walls, glancing back every few seconds to make sure they hadn't lost anyone. As they passed a train car, a male voice was heard from inside, calling out for anyone that could hear.

"Rick." Daryl hissed, trying to stay quiet.

Rick turned back, looking at Daryl expectantly.

"We gotta let them out." Daryl insisted. "That's still us."

Rick seemed to think for a moment before nodding reluctantly. The group ran over to the car, Daryl unlatching the door and throwing it open while the other three kept look out for walkers or residents.

Once the door was open, a deranged looking man with overgrown hair and a surplus of tattoos flew out of the car, grabbing Daryl's shoulders and looking him straight in the eye. "We're the same." He laughed. "We're the same!" suddenly, a walker came out from behind the train car and grabbed the man, taking a huge bite out of his shoulder. The man just laughed harder, seeming to not notice that he was dead on his feet.

Rick grabbed the walker and stabbed it while Daryl pushed the man to the ground. Blake looked down at the crazy man for a moment and he looked back up at her, laughing as she sunk her blade into his head.

Everyone looked at the body for a moment, the face contorted in a tortured kind of grin, eyes wild and unseeing. Without saying anything, the group started running again, towards the front of the compound.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

"Where the hell are they?" Michonne muttered angrily, watching as Eugene began messing with the door.

"What the hell happened out there?" Glenn wondered, louder than Michonne, referring to the recent explosion. Maggie and Abraham were at the door, trying to see what was going on outside through the gaps in the wood.

"There's walkers out there." Maggie said, her eyebrows crinkling in concern. "The people are fighting back."

"We need to keep working." Michonne said firmly. "When they come for us we'll need to help them fight."

"And if not?" Abraham spoke up. He was an interesting man, managing to keep a straight face while he talked about the most ridiculous things.

"They'll be back." Glenn agreed with Michonne. "And we need weapons."

Everyone stayed where they were for a moment, taking a collective breath before they went back to turning their belts and wood scraps from the car into effective weapons.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

As the quartet came upon and intersection of walls-their options being continue straight or turn right-Rick held up a hand and everyone stopped behind him, readying their weapons. Daryl stepped forward, looking around the corner to see what Rick was seeing. When Blake turned around to watch behind them, automatic gunfire sounded, and everyone flinched.

Rick ran for the skeleton of a car twenty feet away and ducked behind it, letting the group of people pass him. He heard footsteps and a squishing sound behind him, and turned to see Daryl slowly lowering a walker to the ground. The men nodded to each other before Rick ran out from behind the car, utilizing his chunk of wood again to stab the back-man in the throat and take his gun, mowing the rest of the shooting group down before they could turn.

The other three picked up guns from the mess of dead bodies and followed as Rick began running again.

Blake and Carl didn't have to worry about killing the few walkers the group encountered on their way to rescue the others, Daryl and Rick took them out easily, leaving both teens to wonder when they'd become so immune to seeing people murdered in front of them.

The journey was easy until the group reached the courtyard, and discovered the explosion was caused by the massive propane tank that was no longer there. The fence was down, and it was obvious that the walkers had been drawn in by the explosion and gunfire. There was a swarm of them in the otherwise empty yard, and the group pushed through, heading for a train.

Rick jogged up the stairs while Carl Daryl and Blake took down walkers, keeping them from getting too close as Rick ripped the door open and yelled for everyone inside to run for the fence.

A steady stream of people flowed out of the car, Blake only recognized Michonne out of the nine faces that passed her. Everyone started moving towards the fence, one of the men shouting at someone not to leave someone's side. Blake couldn't tell who was talking or who they were talking to. She began backing up, Carl to her left and Daryl on her right as they tried to keep as many walkers away from their people as possible. They could hear sounds of impact and penetration, walkers being stabbed and silenced, but nobody turned to see what was going on.

Just as Blake ran out of bullets, she heard Daryl's voice. "Blake! C'mon!"

She threw the strap of the gun over her head and turned to see Daryl standing at the base of the fence; someone had thrown a blanket over the barbed wire to make it easier to climb. Blake ran the ten steps and leaped onto the chain link, landing halfway up the fence and quickly climbing the rest of the way before swinging herself over and dropping down on the other side.

As soon as she felt the ground beneath her feet, Blake also felt hands on her waist. Unfamiliar hands. Large, rough, strong hands. She immediately whirled around, aiming a left hook at the red beard she saw.

"Woah!" the man before her leaned away, dodging the punch with a chuckle. "Calm down sweetheart, just making sure ya don't hurt yourself."

Blake just glowered at the unbelievably large an before her, heart beating a little faster than she'd like to admit.

Michonne stepped between the girl and Abraham, reaching to place a hand on Blake's shoulder. The teen immediately ducked away and Michonne held up her hands, showing she was backing off. "You okay?" She asked as Daryl dropped down from the fence, Rick not far behind.

Blake just nodded, running a slightly shaky hand through her hair.

"Come on." Rick began walking almost before his feet touched the ground, and everyone followed without question.

 **Please review!**


	27. Chapter 27

Carl stayed close to Blake, knowing she was extremely uncomfortable with the presence of all the new people. He was a bit uncomfortable himself. The man who laughed after almost being punched in the face? He was obviously strange. The three other new people were quiet. One of the girls stayed strangely close to the man with mullet, the other kept her head down.

Rick made sure Carl was near him at all times. Blake too. If the kids were separated from him again, Rick knew he wouldn't be able to contain his rage. Rick also kept a close eye on the new arrivals. He'd heard Abraham chuckling while he was climbing the fence, and had touched down to see Blake staring him down. Something had happened, but Michonne had resolved it before Rick could even ask.

"Here." Rick said after the group walked for a few minutes. Blake recognized the seemingly ordinary patch of land as the site where Rick had buried the bag of weapons. Rick immediately pulled the small shovel out from under a pile of leaves and began digging.

Everyone was watching Rick dig, some wondering what he was going to unearth, when Blake felt someone behind her. She quickly spun around, aiming her weapon at the head of the small, grey haired woman who stood a few feet away.

"Blake, don't shoot!" Carl nearly shouted, forcefully lowering the gun for her. Everyone looked up when Carl spoke, seeing the woman staring back at them.

Blake's eyebrow furrowed in confusion as Daryl ran toward the woman and pulled her into a tight embrace. He looked as if he was nearly in tears.

"Who…?" Blake almost whispered as Rick slowly rose and walked towards the woman as well.

"That's Carol." Carl's smile was audible. "She's been with us since the beginning."

Blake finally submitted, slinging the gun over her shoulder again.

"You have to come with me." Carol said, her voice slightly muffled by Rick's jacket as he hugged her.

Michonne had finished digging while the others had their reunion, and walked toward Carol with the bag on her back, smiling as the woman turned and begin leading the group to the road.

After a very short walk, a small house came into view. As the group got closer, the door opened and a man carrying something in his arms came out. Blake didn't go for her gun this time seeing as Rick and Daryl didn't. When the man who left the house turned around, Rick and Carl immediately began running to him, as did one of the girls form the train car that Blake didn't know.

It wasn't until Rick reached the man that Blake figured out why the two were running: Rick now held a baby in his arms. The woman who ran with them ran straight into the arms of the man.

"That Judith?" Blake asked Daryl.

"Yeah." Daryl smirked, watching Rick and Carl as they held back tears of relief. "That's lil' ass kicker."

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Blake wandered through the woods, a thick mist coating the ground to the point where she couldn't tell what she was walking on. The air was still and silent, all she could hear was her own breath. The sky was dark, but she could see perfectly. The familiar weight of the gun strap on her shoulder was gone, but, for some reason, the lack of weapon didn't concern her.

"Blake." The voice behind her was soft and sweet. When she turned around, Blake nearly began crying at what she saw.

"Tegan." Blake ran to her sister, dropping to her knees and pulling her into an embrace faster than she thought was humanly possible. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?" Tegan asked, smiling. The smile that she used before the apocalypse. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Yes I do." Blake insisted, holding her sister out at arm's length, studying every detail of her face. Her ocean blue eyes, slightly crooked teeth and button nose all framed by a thick, messy mop of hair the color of chocolate syrup. They looked nothing alike, and acted nothing alike, but their bond had been deeper and stronger than any other set of siblings Blake had ever met. "I let you die."

"You didn't let me die." Tegan tilted her head to the side, something she did when she was in disbelief or confused. "I ran away."

"But I should have gotten there sooner and killed it."

"No you shouldn't have." Tegan insisted, her lopsided grin shrinking slightly. "I wasn't meant to be in this world."

"And I was?" Blake shook her head, resisting the urge to scoff.

"Well you're still here, aren't you?"

"I guess." Blake mumbled. "But if I'm so fit to be here then I should have been able to protect you."

"You did." Tegan's face turned serious. "You didn't let me come back."

"But I shouldn't have had to do that to you."

"You didn't do anything to me. You did it for me. Besides, I couldn't even kill walkers."

"But you did." Blake remembered the sight of the twice dead corpse mere feet from her near dead sister.

It was Tegan who scoffed this time. "Do you really think I could've done that if you were around? The only reason I killed it was so I could say goodbye to you."

"You could have learned. I could have taught you."

"No." Tegan smiled again. "It's not something you learn. It's something you have."

"But-"

"Besides." Tegan continued. "If I was still with you, you wouldn't be with them right now. You never would have met Michonne or Daryl. Never would have seen Carl again."

"How do you know?" Blake almost accused.

"Because we wouldn't be running without reason. I would complain too much."

Blake laughed. "True."

"Hey, do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Let Carl back in. He won't hurt you."

Blake took a shaky breath before responding. "I'm trying."

"Well, try harder. He's only going to help."

"I know."

"I know you know. Now do it."

Blake smiled at her sister, shaking her head. "I miss you so much." She sniffed, letting a single tear fall.

"I miss you too." Tegan wiped the tear away. "But don't come see me too soon okay?"

"Okay." Blake agreed.

"I have to go now." Tegan stepped away from Blake, her face turning serious.

"Why?" Blake tried to reach out to Tegan but found her arms wouldn't move.

"I just do." Tegan replied as blood began to seep from under the left shoulder of her white shirt, right where she had been bit.

"Tegan!" Blake called as her sister's face contorted in pain and fear. She struggled to get off the ground but was frozen in place as Tegan's eyes rolled back and she collapsed to the ground.

Blake gasped as her eyes opened and sat up, clutching her gun with her left hand and her chest with the other. Tears were streaming down her face and she was breathing hard to compensate for her racing heart.

"Just a dream." She whispered to herself. "Just a dream."

As Blake tried to calm down, she peered through the darkness at the silhouettes of sleeping people. They had set up on the edge of the forest, practically in a ditch on the side of the road. Blake was a few feet away from Daryl, on the edge of the group. He was sleeping, undisturbed by Blake's outburst.

Blake heard light footsteps and her head shot up as she saw the figure of a woman approaching. It was the woman who had been keeping watch, Maggie? Yes, Maggie.

"You okay?" Maggie kept her voice quiet so as not to disturb the others as she knelt down in front of the skittish teen.

Blake only nodded in response, hoping the tears weren't visible in the dark.

"Bad dream?"

Blake nodded again, hesitantly this time. She didn't know this person.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No." Blake shook her head.

"Can I do anything?"

"No." The answer was quieter this time.

"Okay." Maggie backed off, standing to head back to the fire.

"Maggie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll take watch."


	28. Chapter 28

**UUggghhhh I'm a horrible human being.**

 **This update took forever for a multitude of reasons, mostly because of writers block and school. However, exams are next week so I'll be back to a fairly regular updating schedule soon.**

 **There's a bit of a time skip between this chapter and the last, so the group is at the church already.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"You okay?" Blake whipped around faster than she thought humanly possible. Maggie was standing behind her on the front stairs, the church door swinging slowly shut behind her.

Blake just shrugged in response.

"Mind if I join you?"

Blake shrugged again, a gesture which Maggie took as a yes.

"What are you doing out here alone?" Maggie asked, gazing out over the dark and quiet woods.

"Too many people." Blake sighed. It was the truth; there were twelve people in the confines of the tiny church.

"I guess you wouldn't be used to that." Maggie leaned back, resting her elbows on the step above her. "You were on your own for a while?"

"Over a year." Blake liked Maggie. She didn't try to force her talk about anything she didn't want to talk about. Although, Blake often found herself admitting things to Maggie that she hadn't expected to tell anyone.

"That's a long time for someone your age to be alone."

"That's a long time for anyone of any age to be alone." Blake countered. "Especially in this world."

"Very true." Maggie nodded.

"But if I hadn't been alone I'd probably be dead right now."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because my parents never let me learn how to defend myself." Maggie was one of the only people Blake actually didn't mind talking to, even if she did confess random things to her. "The only reason I know how to use a gun is because I had to kill…" Blake trailed off, not wanting to have a flashback at that exact moment.

Maggie let the conversation fall there. Blake appreciated the comfortable silence they were able to keep. Unfortunately, Maggie broke the still air with a question a few minutes later.

"Who's Tegan?"

Blake's head snapped up again. She was shocked, and half hoping she had misheard Maggie.

"The other night when you took my watch shift you were saying her name in your sleep."

Blake looked down at her feet and took a few breaths before answering. "My sister." The voice was barely more than a whisper. "She died."

"I had a sister." Maggie's voice matched Blake's. "Beth. She died at the prison. So did my dad." Blake could tell Maggie was holding back tears. "I know what you're going through, if you ever need to talk."

"Thanks, Maggie." Blake forced the corner of her lip up. She was trying to get better. She really was. But it was hard.

The girls on the steps fell back into a comfortable silence. Until Sasha came out of the church and ruined it.

"Have either of you seen Bob?" She asked, slight worry in her voice.

"No." Maggie said as Blake shook her head.

"He went for fresh air half an hour ago." Sasha explained.

"I came out a few minutes after he did." Blake said, her eyebrow pulling together as she thought. "I didn't see him."

"Where the hell did he go?" Sasha ran a hand through her hair, clearly flustered.

"We'll find him." Maggie assured and she stood up to place a hand on Sasha's shoulder.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Blake silently stepped through the forest, avoiding crunchy leaves and dry twigs. She viewed the forest through the scope of her gun, searching for walkers and humans alike, hoping to catch sight of an army jacket. She knew Michonne was maybe twenty yards to her left, and Glenn and Maggie were approximately the same distance to her right. Everyone accept for Carl, Tyreese, Judith and Gabriel was out looking for Bob. Rick had tried to convince Blake to stay behind, but she was incredibly stubborn, and Maggie had persuaded him otherwise.

The plan was to search through the forest until they reached the road, then turn around and go back. Blake knew she was moving slower than most of the other people searching; she wasn't just looking for Bob, she was feeling for him too. All the years she'd spent alone had resulted in remarkable sensory awareness, and it was easy for her to know when a human being-or walker-was near.

After about ten minutes, she felt Michonne walking back to the church. A few more minutes later, she heard Glenn and Maggie. They weren't exactly stealthy.

When Blake finally emerged on the road, she lowered her gun, leaning back against the nearest tree to take a breath. It had been a while since she was truly alone, and the silent air was welcoming. "I never thought I'd miss this…" Blake whispered to herself.

Suddenly, the air shifted and Blake stiffened. She heard the snarls and knew there were walkers coming from the opposite direction she'd come from. By the sounds of it, there were only two or three. Blake grabbed the dagger from her boot and stepped into the road, slinging her gun over her shoulder.

When the first walker appeared form the trees, Blake let it get close before grabbing its shoulder and stabbing it through the eye. The next walker emerged from the shadows just as Blake freed her knife from the other's head. The third followed soon after the second. Blake kicked the closer walker in the chest, knocking it down before reaching for the last one. Before she could stab it however, brains exploded out the side of the walker's head. Blake turned towards the origin of the silent bullet as fast as she could and found herself face to face with two men and a woman dressed in police uniforms. All three had pistols trained on Blake.

"Drop your weapons." One of the men commanded.

"And if I don't?" Blake knew it probably wasn't a good idea to talk back to three people holding guns, but she needed to figure a way out of this.

"We'll shoot." The other man said. The woman looked uncomfortable, but kept her weapon raised.

"Will you now?" Blake took a step towards the officers, knowing damn well she could be dead very soon. "See, I don't believe you."

"Just do it." The woman sounded less sure than the two men.

"No." Blake crossed her arms defiantly, hoping someone had been slower than her on their search for Bob.

"Don't make this hard for yourself." The first man warned.

"Oh but I don't like taking the easy way out." Blake was astounded at how calm she felt while provoking armed police officers.

"Alright, you asked for it." The second mad said. His gun flinched and Blake felt white hot pain that she'd only ever felt once before in her life shoot through her stomach. Another bullet tore through her leg, knocking her to the ground.

"ARGH!" The cry of pain escaped through her clenched teeth. Blake realized she was no longer holding her dagger and that her gun had been ripped from her back.

Blake fought the darkness that was edging its way into her vision and forced her eyes open as she felt herself being dragged down the dirt road. After a few yard, Blake felt her back leave the ground and meet the trunk of a car. _'_ _How the hell did I not notice this?'_ She wondered lazily. It wasn't until then that she was hit with the gravity of the situation.

"Shit…" She sighed, realizing what had just happened as the car peeled out. "Why did they have to have silencers…?" Was her last thought before the darkness overtook her.

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	29. Chapter 29

**Well I'm the worst...**

 **So sorry for the long silence, my summer was actually crazier than my school year, Also, writers block is a bitch.**

 **So, I'm back now, and I'll hopefully be uploading at least once a week, but don't hold me to that. I should be faster now that I know where I'm taking this story. I regret to tell you that it will be ending soon :(**

 **Anyways, enjoy!**

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"Anything?" Carl asked as everyone filed back into the church.

"No." Rick sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Daryl and Carol come back yet?"

"No." Carl surveyed the group that had entered the church behind his father, noticing they were missing one person. One very important person. "Where's Blake?" He asked, obvious worry in his voice.

Rick turned a full circle, scanning the church rapidly. "We thought she was already back."

"No, she's not." Michonne went to Carl's side as he whispered the words that no one had wanted to hear, the ones that meant they may have lost another group member.

Before anyone could say anything else, Gabriel came out of his office. Rick lumbered forward and pinned the priest to the wall by his shoulders. "You have something to do with this?" He growled. "You show up and four of our people go missing? Seems pretty convenient."

"I swear, I had nothing to do with it!" Gabriel was visibly terrified. "I've not been in contact with anyone outside of this church until you showed up!"

"Bullshit!" Carl's voice matched Rick's growl. "They would never just run off like this!"

"I'm sorry but I'm telling the truth!"

"Guys!" Glenn's voice cut through the argument. "Someone's outside." A faint whistle pierced the air and everyone ran out the front door, weapons readied.

"Bob!" Sasha's shriek was horrified and angry as she saw her partner laying in the grass, missing half a leg. No one else was visible in the dark forest.

"Get him inside." Rick grunted. Everyone followed as Tyreese and Sasha carried Bob inside. Carl linger a moment after everyone went back into the church, hoping to catch sight of Blake's golden hair. He didn't see any sign of his friend, but he shivered when he saw the red 'A' painted in what was probably blood on the side of the church.

 **TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

The light gave Blake a headache before she even opened her eyes. Everything seemed too bright. And artificial. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep. She hadn't slept in days considering her unconscious hours were plagued with nightmares of her sister dying. It was so nice to not have any dreams… _'_ _Why didn't I have any dreams…?'_

Suddenly, Blake remembered what had happened and why she was asleep. Her eyes immediately flew open and she found herself staring at a bright, white ceiling. The memory of getting shot twice and being dragged into a black car pounded at the inside of her skull, but the recollection did nothing to tell her where she was.

Blake sat up and realized she was sitting in a bed. A hospital bed. And there was a heart rate monitor obnoxiously beeping next to the bed. She was attached to the monitor and a few other machines, one of which she suspected to be distributing morphine or some other pain medication considering her mind was foggy and she couldn't feel either of the gunshot wounds. Blake immediately ripped the tubes out of her arm and the electrodes that were attached to the heart monitor off of her chest, causing the machine to produce one constant tone. For the first time, she realized she was wearing a hospital gown, which left her feeling much too exposed.

"Why the hell am I in a hospital..?" She wondered aloud and she attempted to get out of the bed. As soon as she attempted to put any weight on her legs, Blake's knees buckled and she hit the ground hard. Blood appeared on her gown moments later, leaking from the bullet wound in her side.

Blake forced herself to her feet, clutching the rail on the bed for support as she rummaged through the drawer of the bedside table, searching for something she could use as a weapon. She ignored the slowly increasing ache in her leg and stomach.

The drawer was full of medical supplies, mostly bandages, gauze rolls and extra tubing, but Blake found a single syringe. "Air in the blood stream could be fatal if distributed to the right area." She mumbled to herself, reciting one of the warnings she had seen in one of her father's textbooks.

Suddenly, Blake heard voices and footsteps outside of the door to the room she was in. She did her best to look threatening as she clutched a syringe in one hand and the bedrail in the other.

The door was unlocked and thrown open and a man in a lab coat rushed in followed by a woman in a police uniform.

"Hey, relax." The man held his hands up to show he meant no harm. "My name is Doctor Steven Edwards, this is Officer Dawn Learner. You're safe here."

Blake stared the adults down, but her hands were shaking.

"Put the syringe down." Dawn said, moving a hand to her gun. Blake didn't oblige. "I said put it down." Dawn began to pull the gun from the holster but Edwards stopped her.

"Hey, hey! There's no need for that." Blake could tell he was referring to the condition she was in. There was no way she would be able to attack them. Edwards turned his attention back to Blake once Dawn put her gun away. "Looks like you ripped your stitches. I'll have to fix that."

"Dr. Edwards here saved your life." Dawn seemed to have calmed down since Blake's defiance moments earlier. "Which means you owe us."

Blake forced her face to hold the same expression: a mix of anger and indifference.

"You were shot twice." Edwards began, as if Blake didn't know. "I was able to extract the bullets, but you shouldn't be out of bed yet."

"Can you tell us your name?" Dan asked in a demanding tone. "It's common courtesy."

Blake just remained silent.

"Wow, you're a difficult one, aren't you?" Dawn turned away from Blake, towards the door. "Fix her up. I want her working by tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am." Edwards' tone was mocking as Dawn left the room. "I don't mean you any harm."

Blake stared back, wanting so badly to tell the man off, but holding her tongue. She wasn't going to reveal any information about herself or her group to these people.

"Alright then." Edwards took a tentative step forward and Blake flinched forward, threatening him with the syringe. "Okay, okay. I won't come any closer. But I do need to fix your stitches. Unless you want to bleed out that is."

Blake had completely forgotten about the blood running from her abdomen down her left leg. The aching from the two bullet wounds was getting worse now that the pain killers were wearing off, and her knees were becoming increasingly weak.

"You should sit down before you fall down." Edwards advised, seeing the shaking in Blake's arms and legs. She just grunted.

' _When did I turn into Daryl?_ ' She thought.

"Alright then." Edwards sighed. "I suppose we'll just have to wait until you pass out from blood loss or collapse from weakness."

Blake's gaze didn't waver. She was used to pain, this guy's threats didn't scare her. Although, his threats did ring true. As the minutes passed between them, Blake could feel her knees getting shakier. Her wounds also began to throb painfully. After an indiscernible amount of time, Blake found herself unconscious before she hit the hard tile floor.

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